Mark of the Beast
by CelticRemedy
Summary: A war between Middle–Earth and Narnia breaks out and the Pevensies must make a decision – help Middle-Earth defeat this darkness or aid Narnia and watch Middle-Earth become overrun by evil.
1. The Elven Ring

**Mark of the Beast**

**Summary:** The gateways to new lands are often hidden from the naked eye. But what if one of those gates is opened too soon? A war between Middle – Earth and Narnia breaks out and the Pevensies must make a decision – help Middle-Earth defeat this darkness or aid Narnia and watch Middle-Earth become overrun by evil.

**Warnings:** Torture, Angst. All that fun stuff. You'll see how far one has to do go to break a certain Elven Lord…

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Lord of the Rings or Chronicles of Narnia. If I did I would not need to be here, now would I? No, all credit goes to JRR Tolkien and CS Lewis

**Author's Note:** This, my friends, will be unlike any Lord of the Rings/Chronicles of Narnia crossover you have ever read, I assure you. This takes place during Prince Caspian and before the War of the Ring.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One: The Elven Ring<strong>

"_It's not time to worry yet."  
>To Kill a Mockingbird<em>

And even the moon was sad for the dying elf lord.

Dark and ominous mountains rose sharply around him. He was there, kneeling on the barren rock with the bones of fallen comrades surround him. No blade of glass, no soft earth, just rock and rough soil. The world was dead and sad. Why was he left? Why did he have to endure such pain?

The cold wind blew back the elven hair. The cold stung his eyes. But he dare not cry, for there was no one to cry to. Everyone was dead. Everyone he ever loved or cared about were gone. All passed away from this cold…unforgiving world. But he was still here! Why? Why was he still here?

A flower rose from the ground, the last beauty of this world. He became aware of a knife he was holding in his hand. The blade was red, like it had been through battle. The blade swiftly sliced off the top of the flower. It withered and died, and the stem was sucked back in to the world. He did not deserve such a flower, such beauty. He was a monster. He what had he done? _Why _did he deserve this?

Once again, he looked down at the knife. The red stuck out sharply against the dull world he was in. It was out of place. But not he, he belonged here; a dark place for a dark soul.

His hand stung. He glanced down and saw it was wet. Slowly, he touched his eye. He was shocked to see it was wet as well. What was this? He wasn't allowed to cry. That's why he was put here. Wasn't it?

A dark abyss opened in front of him. _It's time._ A dark voice whispered in his ear. He loosed his grip on the knife. _Clink-clink-clink_ Slowly it fell down the abyss. He was to follow. He felt the darkness coming nearer and neared.

_And even the moon was sad for the dying elf lord._

* * *

><p><em>Thwack!<em>

The faun clutched the arrow that protruded from his neck. Blood slowly leaked from its chest as he lay on the sodden ground. A figure emerged from the thicket. He was a man, clothed in brown leather and a molted cloak. His face was hidden by his hood. A wicked smirk could only be seen by the dying creature. In the man's hands was a wooden long bow, a grey-feathered arrow was notched. The creature's eyes became glazed as an arrow landed in his chest.

Amdir sighed as he slung his bow across his back. "That's the last of them…for now, at least."

Amdir was one of the Rangers of the North – the Dunedain. He surveyed the campground. Eight Narnians and three Rangers were killed.

"Three dead…" Amdir sighed.

"Soon theses hills will be infested with Narnian scum," Halbarad said, lightly kicking one of the Narnian corpses with the edge of his boot. He turned to the east facing the Shire. "Soon this evil will overrun the Shire," He took a step towards the river, "then on to Bree-Land, and then the Lone-Lands and the Trollshaws."

"They would have to get past the Dwarves of Kheledul and the Elves of Duillond to do so," Amdir said walking up to his captain.

Halbarad knelt down, "Aye…however, how do we know the Dourhands would not aid in their attempts? And the Elves at Duillond?" He shook his head, "able fighters at the least, but peaceful people none less. No…we do not know how strong the Narnian forces are. If they wage war on us…the results may be…disastrous."

He stood up and turned around; two more rangers were coming back from the wood. Langlas and Mallor were returning with high spirits, both were laughing and joking.

"You'll be happy to know," Langlas exclaimed, "that we've chased down the remaining Narnian and have rid them of this land!"

Halbarad smirked. You could always count on Langlas to lighten the mood when the going gets tough. "If only you two could chase down all of Narnia and we'd be through with this darkness."

"I can only try, Halbarad," Langlas sighed.

"Aye, Halbarad…you may want to see this," Mallor looked up from his spot next to a faun corpse. The faun had sandy colored hair and bore the colors of Narnia; red and gold. From where he was standing now, Halbarad could clearly see the creature had something clutched in its hands.

The man quickly found his way next to Mallor. The Ranger opened the faun's hand. In it was a ring. A golden ring adorned with a great blue stone. It took Halbarad's breath away. No, not in a good way. In that way where you know something horrible has happened yet do not know what.

"Vilya…the Ring of Air, Imladris lies unprotected…

"Master Elrond is in trouble."

* * *

><p>The door to the Prancing Pony flung open. All conversations were stopped for a moment as the inhabitants of the tavern took in the newcomer; a rain-drenched man with boots covered in mud. He quickly shut the door behind him. A second after the door shut, the merrymaking began once again.<p>

The light in the common room of the Prancing Pony was dim. The floors were slippery from the mud and spilled ale.

A man sat at a table in the very back of the tavern, hidden by the shadows. The only source of light was a candle that was set in the middle of the table. His hood was drawn over his face, only revealing his mouth – frowning, tight in worry. He started when the door flung open. His frown was turned into a smirk when he saw the newcomer was Halbarad, his kin.

Halbarad strolled over to the counter, scanning each patron as he did so. He smiled when he found the man sitting in the corner. He weaved past men, laughing and drinking, and the occasional Hobbit sitting by the fire or listening to the story teller.

Halbarad pulled up a wooden chair and sat down across the man, who didn't seem to notice him.

"It's not good, Aragorn," Halbarad started. He looked down, staring at the designs on the wooden table. "Not good at all…"

"Aye, then…get on with it."

Halbarad hesitated for a moment, nervous of how Aragorn would take his news. Finally, he drew something out of his pocket and dropped it on the table. It landed on the table with a _clink _

Aragorn stared at the object before he pulled back his hood. His eyes were wide in shock. "Vilya…Elrond's ring…Halbarad, what has happened?" His voice rose gradually. When he was done speaking, his voice was frantic and loud.

"Narnians…" Halbarad said in a low whisper. "They have entered Middle – Earth through the Northern Barricade. I do not know they have managed to get their hands on Vilya. I don't know how they have managed to sneak past our guard. Unless…"

Aragorn nodded. "There must be another entrance to Middle – Earth in Narnia. One that opens near the Trollshaws… Did you double the guard? Sent word to Imladris?"

Halbarad nodded, "Yes and yes, I fear for Middle-Earth, friend. The future looks dim."

"You know what we must do…"

"Of course…it's simple; enter Narnia and close the entrance."

**Author's Note: Confused? Don't worry, everything will be explained in the coming chapters! Please Review and tell me what you thought!**


	2. Attack on the Valley

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Lord of the Rings or Chronicles of Narnia. If I did I would not need to be here, now would I? No, all credit goes to JRR Tolkien and CS Lewis.

**Author's Note: **The beginning of this chapter takes place months (half a year perhaps?) the story actually begins. _Then_, the second part of this chapter picks up a few weeks after the first chapter. I know, it's confusing – forgive me! I just wanted to explain what has been happening to our dear friends the Elves.

As for ages;

_Narnia_:

Peter: 16 Susan: 14 Edmund: 12 Lucy: 10

(I know I made them a year older than they're supposed to be.)

_Middle-Earth:_

I'm making Aragorn around 40-50ish since I'm not exactly sure what year I'm making this take place.

_**Important:**_ I understand that the beginning of my story is eerie similar to EtchedInDiamond's "The Middle Earth Campaign" beginning. This was not, in any way, intentional.

Now that's settled, Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Mark of the Beast<strong>

**Chapter Two: Attack on the Valley**

"_The board is set, the pieces are moving."_

_Gandalf the Grey,_

Dawn peaked over the mountains, flooding sunlight into the valley of Rivendell. The azure blue sky, the bright sun and the green foliage all belittle the horrors that the valley faced yesterday. If one was to venture further into the Trollshaws, up the river and into the Elf haven, they'd find it to be a wrecked pile of burnt ruble.

The attack came swiftly. In the dawning of midnight, the ground began to shake. Sounds of thundering horses and metal clashing reached the ears of the Elves. And in that moment, Glorfindel, Captain of the Guard in Rivendell, knew something was wrong.

Elrond, lord of the valley, should have foreseen an attack or at least impending danger. So why weren't the alarms raised?

He stood paralyzed. His thoughts were clouded. In an instant he was running through the halls of the Last Homely House. He stopped, resting a hand on the wall and the other on his stomach. Glorfindel wasn't completely sure what he was doing or where he was going. His mind told him he had to do _something_. The attackers – whoever they may be – would be upon the valley in a matter of minutes.

He knew people would be fleeing the valley. And he had a nagging feeling in the back of his mind saying that he should get out of there as well. But he couldn't there was something he had to do – people he had to find.

Going around the corner, he tripped. Slowly, afraid to see what he tripped over, Glorfindel brought himself to a sitting position and gasped. "Erestor…"

He shook the elf awake. The midnight-blue haired elf's eyes slowly fluttered open. Erestor drew a deep breath and turned his head, almost as if the motion pained him. Glorfindel notice blood trying to escape the elf's mouth.

Erestor was a picture from a nightmare. His usual pale complexion was instead deathly white. Pale lips were turned red from blood. Dark red robes turned black. One hand clutched his abdomen, the other laid limp at his side. Blue eyes were now dark and cold. Glorfindel felt stuck in a dream.

"You better get out of here before you get hurt, Glorfindel." The obviously hurt elf muttered in a bitter dismal voice.

He was shocked. Never once had Erestor shown concern for his well being. So why start now? "No, I'm getting you out of here."

Erestor's eyes turned even colder than before – if that was indeed possible. "I'm a lost cause, Glorfindel! Get yourself out of here while you still can."

That stung. It felt as if Erestor was saying he couldn't protect Rivendell. That he couldn't protect the elves that lived in the valley. He could protect no one.

_No, that's just the stress talking._ Glorfindel reminded himself._ Erestor is just trying to protect you._

The blonde elf stood up, dragging Erestor up with him. The elf was nearly unconscious. Glorfindel wrapped one of Erestor's arm around his shoulder, supporting him with his other hand wrapped around his waist, and slowly made his way back down the hall.

Glorfindel managed to push open the door to outside. He caught the attention of a young elf, Nestaron. The young elf was soon at his captain's side. "Get…" Glorfindel took a breath, leaning against the door, "Get Lord Erestor out of here, Nestaron."

"My Captain," Nestaron said, taking Erestor from Glorfindel, "you should get yourself out of here. I'll find Lord Elrond."

He couldn't help but smile. Such loyalty from one so young, it made Glorfindel's heart swell with pride. Nestaron was from a small elven village in Eregion. He was only a child when he home was destroyed in the War of the Elves and Sauron in 1697 of the Second Age. He and his family followed Elrond to Imladris after the war. They've been living here ever since. Well…until Nestaron's parents were murdered by Orcs.

"No, no, that's alright, Nestaron. You go, get Erestor help."

That was the first time Nestaron had noticed the elf in his care was hurt. He nodded and then turned to leave Rivendell, taking on last worried glance at Glorfindel.

Next, one of the buildings went up in flames. It was the crafting hall. One of the forges must have been tipped over or a lantern knocked over. Or…the attackers were already upon Imladris and brought torches to light the place up in flames. Glorfindel shivered. It bothered him he didn't even know who was attacking them.

The attack was quick. It seemed to stop as quickly as it started. Glorfindel never saw the attackers; he left the valley before they came out of the shadows _like they were waiting for him to leave._ He saw the place go up in flames, saw the dark smoke rose into the sky. Strange creatures came out from the shadows carrying brutal weapons. They killed any elves that had yet to flee. Many of Glorfindel's great warriors were murdered.

He carried a small elf toddler in his arms. The mother begged him to get her child to safety. When he said he could get both of them out of Rivendell safely, the mother said in reply, "You won't have enough time. I'll only-" the woman never got to finish. An arrow was shot and killed her.

"_Naneth_!"

"_Belain na le_."

The child began crying silently, not wanting to break Glorfindel's concentration. He could only tell by how his shoulder was getting wet.

They had to dodge burning rubble that was just about to fall on them. Glorfindel had to jump over rubble that was still aflame – mindful of the child in his arms. The flames licked his back and the child patted them out before Glorfindel noticed they were there in the first place.

When they made it to the front gate, Glorfindel turned around and watched the flames. A pang of grief and sorrow hit suddenly him. He felt his knees weaken. _Elrond's still in there. Goheno nin, Mellon-nin!_ The child wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder. His eyes began to water. She was the only thing keeping him from running into the flames.

"_Hebo estel," _came a sweet voice at his side. Glorfindel turned his head. The child was staring at him. He smiled softly and then turned to leave the valley.

He set the child down when they came to the other elves. The child hesitated, looking up at him, before running towards an older elf – _her brother, maybe._

He needed to be alone. He walked over to the cliff side and fell to his knees in the cold grass. The sun was just starting to set; painting the sky with brilliant colors of red, pink, and yellow. It was a dark contrast to the dismal scene Rivendell was now. He felt nothing. His heart was sick and sad.

Rivendell was lost. Elrond was gone, captured, and probably dead. Elrond, who he promised the Valar he'd protect, slipped from his grasp.

Secretly, deep in his heart, he blamed Erestor. He made him trip in the hall, made him lose precious time. Even though, Glorfindel knew that is wrong to blame him. Erestor couldn't help it; he was attacked. No, the only one to blame was himself. He was to blame, not Erestor.

He got mostly everyone out in time. The twins were safe; they were out of Rivendell before the attack took place. His heart started racing. He made a start for Rivendell then stopped himself. Arwen was safe. She's in Lothlorien. Everyone was alright.

Everyone besides Elrond.

Glorfindel screamed. It still didn't make him feel any better. He failed. The valley had been destroyed; her lord was most likely dead. They'd need a hero to save them now.

He nearly collapsed on to a rock. His arms rested on his knees, his head cradled in his hands. Tears silently fell. The elf heard somebody walking towards him. Quickly looking back he saw Erestor walking towards him.

Erestor silently sat down next to Glorfindel, without saying a word.

Glorfindel was the first to break the silence, "I've failed."

"Have you?"

"Don't play with me Erestor. Rivendell's lost. Elrond…Oh Eru, Elrond's probably dead." His head found its way back into his hands. "I should have gone back to save him."

"I think Lord Elrond would have wanted you to get everyone else out first before you even gave him a thought."

A smile appeared on Glorfindel's face. "You think so?"

Erestor remained silent. Wordlessly, he stood up and left, leaving Glorfindel to his thoughts. He thought of the twins, and Arwen. Their mother had already sailed to Valinor now they'll have to live the rest of their long life without a father. There was only one difference. They'll see Celebrain again, when they sail west. They'll never see Elrond again. Glorfindel could feel tears welling in his eyes again.

"I'm sorry Elrond…my friend, please forgive me."

The wind silently blew through the blonde elf's hair. Glorfindel stood up. As he turned to lay one last look on the burnt valley, his foot hit something. Looking down, Glorfindel saw a hollowed ivory animal horn lying in the grass. It had the shape of a lion with an opened mouth, ready to roar. A red strap was connected to the horn by golden clasps.

"_If you ever feel lost, blow the horn and help will come."_

* * *

><p>There were four of them – Peter, Edmund, Susan, and Lucy Pevensie. Four rulers of the magic land known as Narnia. They ruled Narnia at Cair Paravel for four blessed years that is now known as The Golden Age. As their reign was ending, they went on a hunt to catch the White Stag – an animal that can grant you a wish. They went through the very doorway that brought them to Narnia in the first place.<p>

But now that time is over and Narnia fell into darkness.

Now, the Pevensies were sitting on a seat at a train station with trunks and playboxes piled up around them. They were going back to school – to learn things they were taught already in Narnia. In a few minutes a train would arrive and take the girls away to school and in a half hour, another would come to pick the boys up and take them away to another school.

It was an empty, sleepy, country station and there was hardly anyone on the platform except themselves. Besides the passing gaurds and the occasional school child. Nobody paid them heed or gave them a passing glance. If one was to look, they'd see four children that all wanted to be somewhere else. However, nobody would understand how deep that longing feeling all of them felt.

"It's been a year," Peter said. "How much longer does he expect us to wait?"

"I think it's about time we learned we live _here_ now." Susan said.

Lucy shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She couldn't get used to a life in England. She longed to be in Narnia again, living among the fauns and dryads, the centaurs and satyrs, and all the other Narnia creatures. She didn't belong in England, none of them did. They belonged in Narnia! Suddenly, Lucy felt something pinch her. She gave a little shriek and jumped up from the set.

"Lucy," Susan hissed, "quite down before you get us in more trouble." She cast a glance at Peter and Edmund

"Something pinched me!"

Suddenly Peter felt someone pulling at him. He turned to Edmund, "Hey stop pulling!"

"I'm not touching you!" Edmund yelled in defense.

"Would you all – What is that?" Susan said, jumping out of her seat.

Next moment the luggage, the seat, the platform, and the station had completely vanished. Light fixtures were torn down; posters were torn off the walls as the train blew by them. The building started to tear away as imagines of a sandy beach was shown through the windows of the train.

In the next moment, the children were standing in a cave all holding hands and panting.

_They were home._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>So, what's Glorfindel going to do now that Rivendell is gone? How are the Pevensies going to shake things up? Still confused? Don't worry everything will be explained later on.

Please and tell me what you thought!

_Elvish Translations:_

Naneth: _Mother_

Belain na le: _The Valar be with you_

Goheno nin: _Forgive me_

Mellon – nin: _My friend_

Hebo estel: _Have hope_


	3. The Lost Monarchs

**Mark of the Beast**

**Chapter Three: The Lost Monarchs**

The land was awakened by the Lion, Aslan, and the Stars. The boy, Digory Kirke, planted the Tree of Protection and forced the witch Jadis to flee far north. King Frank and Queen Helen became the very first king and queen of Narnia. Aslan put up two boundaries to keep Narnia and Middle-Earth from finding out about each other before they were ready. They became known as the North and South Boundaries.

Of Middle-Earth, the Elves and the men from Arnor, the Dunedain, were the only people who knew of them. Aslan wanted it that way. Of Narnia, the Boundaries passed out of memory. Not nearly two thousand years later were the Boundaries remembered again.

Cair Paravel was all but destroyed. Narnia was conquered by the Telmarines, ruled by Caspian. It was a faun who found the North Boundary in what use to be known as Lantern Waste.

Two stone pillars stood upward from the ground. They were old, looked like they were built many many years ago. The stone was cracked, ivy was circling around it, filling in the cracks yet it was strong and durable. The faun could see a land unknown to him through the pillars. It was a lush green meadow. The image between the pillars swirled around. He was curious about what lay beyond the pillars but he knew better to go through. Instead he went to the king and told him of what he found. Caspian ordered the faun to go through and see that there was to see.

The faun never returned. When he entered Middle-Earth, he had expected to find a land like Narnia with creatures he's lived with his whole life. Instead, he walked into a land of men, elves, and dwarves unlike those in Narnia.

An elf, Isferon, from Duillond was traveling north when he found the faun looking dazed and confused. When the faun refused to answer the elf's question, he shot him with his bow. Tensions were raised. This unknown country with unusual creatures was invading their lands. The elves mistakenly took this as a threat. Some of the Dunedain understood their worries and traveled to Ered Luin and camped out near the Boundary. Any invader found was shot dead on spot.

And unknowingly, war was waged.

* * *

><p>Nikabrik gagged, "You'd expect somebody to eat this? It's so stale!" He threw the 'too stale bread' down on the plate before him.<p>

"Come now, Nikabrik!" Trufflehunter said, "It's perfectly good!"

Nikabrik grunted, "Maybe if you're a Telmarine…"

Trumpkin the dwarf sat by the window smoking a pipe. "There's something out there." He had noticed the bushes moving for the past ten minutes. Something or someone was obviously out there.

"You're seeing things." Nikabrik mumbled darkly.

"Maybe you'd like to go out there and prove that." The black dwarf did reply. Suddenly, three arrows were sent flying into the front door. The two dwarves and the badger jumped out of their seat. Trumpkin went over to the door – against Trufflehunter's wishes – and slowly peaked out. He saw a shadowed figure holding a bow tightly in his hands. The cowl of his cloak hid his face from view, but Trumpkin didn't need to see his face to know who he was. He knew this man. "Alright, you've had you fun. Now get in here before you attract the Telmarines."

The shadowed figure pulled his hood down and ducked, more like crawled, into the small house built around the base of the tree. That's why he part of the reason why he liked the Narnians – the good ones at least – they built their homes around nature much like how the Elves built their settlements around nature instead of on top of it.

"Ah!" Trufflehunter exclaimed. "Aragorn, quite a lovely surprise I'd say." Nikabrik muttered in disagreement. "I thought you gave up traveling in these parts?"

Aragorn nodded, "I did, for the time being. But something brings me back to your land, sadly, nothing good."

"Oh?" The badger said, slightly shocked, "Hmm…I wonder what it could be…" The badger walked over to the fire still speaking to himself. "Well, times aren't good now in Narnia but Middle-Earth hasn't had contact with Narnia since Helen and Frank's time, when Aslan built up the Northern and Southern Barricades."

Trufflehunter sighed, turning around and remembered he had a guest, "Oh! My bad, I forgot you were here…"

Aragorn laughed, "You're worse than Elrond, Trufflehunter. He'll completely forget you stepped foot into the room if you get him going on something."

The badger smiled, "How is the elf?"

Aragorn suddenly got very serious. "That's what I'm here about…I'm looking for somebody."

Trumpkin grunted from his spot by the window, "You lost somebody, in Narnia? Good luck; they're a lost cause now."

Aragorn grew angry and sad. He collapsed into a chair too small for him. Deep down, in the bottom of his heart, he knew that was always a chance Trumpkin's words could be true. Yet there was always a hope. Trufflehunter walked over to the Ranger and patted him on the back with his claw

"Why don't you tell us what happened, from the beginning?"

So he told them what Halbarad told him that dreary day in Bree. He told of how the Narnians have been invading Middle-Earth through something they called the Northern Barricade. He told them of how they found Vilya in the hands of a Narnian. When the Rangers traveled to Rivendell, they found the haven burnt to the ground and the Elves were gone, some were dead, but not all. That meant they were somewhere in either Middle-Earth or Narnia. He didn't know why but he somehow guessed Glorfindel took them into Narnia – to get Elrond back.

If somebody was he loved was in trouble, Glorfindel would go to the depths of Mordor and back to get them back. That's how loyal he was to Rivendell, and to Elrond. For all his life, Aragorn thought of Glorfindel like this. There hasn't been a time where the blonde elf forsaken his friends, and he wasn't about to start now.

Trumpkin, Trufflehunter, and Nikabrik were stunned by his tale.

"I still don't know why we should help you," Nikabrik said. Aragorn's head snapped in his direction and the Ranger sent him a glare.

"Aragorn is no Telmarine, Nikabrik. The men of Middle-Earth are not like the men of Narnia – they are good and fair…at least the Rangers are."

"I don't trust him anyway. Telmarine or not, either way they're just as bad."

Trufflehunter glared at the dwarf, "Enough Nikabrik, before I have to sit on your head again." The badger paused to see if the dwarf would respond. He didn't. "Now, where were we?"

"I'm looking for somebody," Aragorn said, "an old friend of mine. I believe he took the rest of the Elves into Narnia, to get Elrond back."

Trufflehunter walked over to a chest and began searching for something. "We had visitor a few nights ago…well, he never showed his face, nor did he speak to us but…" there was the sounds of paper rustling and metal cups clashing "he left this." The badger pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to Aragorn. "I found that pinned to the front door with an arrow – and it was no Telmarine arrow…"

Aragorn started at the folded paper. It had his name printed on it in elvish script. He unfolded the paper. It was a drawing of an owl with an arrow in the bird's beak, the owl was sitting in a tree in a burnt down forest. Below the owl was a picture ruins with a crown next to it. The ruins were on fire.

"Find what you're seeking in the Owlwood," Aragorn whispered to himself, "but first head east in the direction of the Western King."

"Hmm?"

"It's a riddle…Glorfindel isn't known for using riddles." Aragorn mused to himself, "Elrond is known for his cryptic visions…" He looked down at the drawing once again, "Owlwood…Western King…Elrond is being held in the Owlwood." Aragorn jumped out of his seat and head towards the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Trumpkin shouted.

He turned towards the dwarf and said, "To find what I came here for!"

Next Trumpkin got up and followed him. Trufflehunter looked at his dwarf friend, "Now where are you going?"

"To make sure he doesn't get himself killed!" And with that, Trumpkin slammed the door behind him.

* * *

><p>"Peter…where's Edmund? He was with us, wasn't he?" Lucy looked up at Peter mournfully. She and Susan were sitting on a rock on the beach. Peter was pacing back and forth, making trails in the sand. Not a moment before they were standing in a train station in London now they were sitting on a beach in, what they thought to be, Narnia. However, only three of the Pevensie were there. Edmund was nowhere to be found.<p>

Peter sighed and sat down next to Lucy. Susan was gently rubbing circles on the girl's back to comfort her. "I don't know Lucy…I just don't know. He was with us in England but then we got to…" he sighed again resting his head in hands, "I just don't know."

Lucy stood up and turned around, "I don't remember any ruins in Narnia…"

The three Pevensies made their way up to the ruins. They walked around looking at the crumbling walls and remains of stairways and archways. Everything was being overgrown by trees, bushes and vines. There were apple trees hanging over remains of pillars and walls. Peter stepped up on a ruined stairway to get a better look of things. Lucy found, what she thought to be, a balcony. It over looked the ocean.

"Wonder who lived here…" She said to her two siblings.

Susan came into sight holding something in her hand, "I think…we did." She was holding a piece of a chess game. It was Narnian – a golden centaur.

Lucy took another look at her surroundings and everything began to look familiar. "It's can't be…" She ran off, Peter and Susan following close behind. "Don't you see?" She took Peter and placed him in front of a pile of rocks. "Imagine walls…and pillars there…" she did the same to Susan, "and a glass roof." She finished before standing herself in front of a pile of rocks.

"Cair Paravel." Peter whispered in shock and confusion.

* * *

><p>Peter cleared away some of the underbrush in front of a wall. He knew, however, it wasn't some ordinary wall. Susan came over and helped him push it way. It reviled a door. The door was locked but it was old enough he could put a hole in it and push it away. He picked up a stick and ripped away apart of his shirt. Looking at Susan and Lucy, he said "Would either of you two happen to have any matches?"<p>

Susan and Lucy looked at each other and back at Peter.

Lucy shook her head. "But Edmund has a torch! Isn't that right…" she spun around and then remembered that Edmund wasn't with them, "I hope he's ok."

"He'll be fine, Lu," Peter said. The girl twisted around to look at him. "I mean, this _is_ Edmund we're talking about! Don't worry, we'll find him."

The chamber that the stairs led too was lit by windows that let in sunlight. Lucy stood in wonder. For it was then the girl noticed were she was standing; in the old treasure chamber in Cair Paravel. There were four statues of regal people standing proudly behind great chest made of marble. Susan and Lucy went to their chest right away and opened them. Lucy was amazed everything she remembered was still there. She looked through old dresses, rings, jewelry, and other treasures of the Golden Age.

They took things that they'd need later on. Lucy took her dagger and her magic cordial that could heal a serious wound with a single drop of the juice. Susan took her bow and arrow – her horn was missing from the chest. Peter took his sword, Rhindon and his shield. He also took Edmund swords from his brother's chest. He also took a pair of clothes and a bag from Edmund's chest. They all found clothes that would fit them and went to get changed into their comfortable Narnian clothes.

"I think it's about time we find out what's going on here."

* * *

><p>"<em>Trumpkin? Trumpkin! …NO!"<em>

Lucy twisted around to face the entrance. She thought she heard shouting, but that couldn't be right. They were alone…right? They looked to see if Peter and Susan heard it as well. They didn't seem like they heard at all. They were laughing and joking. She heard the shouting again. It was man that much was obvious. He had an accent Lucy couldn't place, so he must not be from Narnia. She looked back at Peter and Susan again before taking off towards the exit.

"Lucy? Lucy, wait!" Peter shouted before taking off after her.

When Lucy reached the top of the stairs, she slowed stepped out into the sunlight. It was exactly how she left it, no mysterious man haunting the grounds.

Then a cry rang out, _"__Duck! MOVE QUICKLY!"_ Lucy looked up.

She wished she hadn't.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> I don't know how I feel about this chapter… I didn't want to add the movie verse quotes and parts in this chapter but I could see no way to get around it. I'll try better in the future. What I'd really like would be a nice review to brighten up my day. I'm currently sick with a small, annoying cold. But, it's not my place to rant about how very unfair that is. Until next time, my friends!


	4. A Plan Made Among Strangers

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing except a certain dark elf who thinks he's a lord (kinda like Jadis, in a way)

**Author's Note:** In the words of Samwise Gamgee, "Well, I'm back." I know my absence wasn't too long (or maybe it wasn't even noticed…?) but it felt long to me. I'm trying to post these chapters a week apart. I missed last week's dead line. x_x forgive me? Haha, Enjoy the chapter!

**Warnings:** Angst and mentions of torture.

* * *

><p><strong>Mark of the Beast:<strong>

**Chapter 4: A Plan Made Among Strangers**

Now, I bet you are wondering where our dear friend the Just King ended up when they got sent to Narnia, aren't you. I hope you are, because here is your answer;

Aslan had sent Edmund, the Just King of Old Narnia, a little north of where the rest of the Pevensies were sent. A thousand years ago, this place would be known as the Owlwood – a place where flowers would bloom and the grass was as bright as the sun. Now it is a dark, gloomy place overrun by Narnia's enemies.

The trees intertwined overhead, creating a dark cover over Edmund's head.

To say he was surprised would be a huge understatement. He knew in the back of his mind where he was but his heart couldn't accept it. This wasn't his Narnia. This was a cruel, savage version of his old home. What happened? Where were all the fauns and dryads dancing to the enchanted flutes or the centaurs drinking their health away?

What happened to Narnia?

He was going to find out – no, he _had_ to find out.

Edmund took a step forward. _Snap_. The snap of the branch Edmund stepped on rang throughout the silent forest, echoing through the dormant trees. Nearby, birds flew out of the tree where they were resting in haste.

Getting a closer look at things, Edmund saw the trees weren't just silent or sleeping oh no, some were burnt or chopped down. The grass was stained black.

A large building rose above the trees. Edmund felt himself being drawn towards it. It rose dark and ominous above the trees. It wasn't a castle, far from it. It was a triple-leveled fortress. The walls were made of dark stone. It had close to none windows. Every room on the top level had at least one window. The second level had some windows, the bottom none at all. Some stones were missing from the walls – this must had served as windows. Edmund now knew what this building truly was – a dungeon.

Just then, a loud scream resounded through the forest. Edmund found himself on the ground, his hands firm over his ears. Something in his heart lurched when he heard the scream. It was unfamiliar indeed but something in his heart told him this is why he's here. Why they – or, at least, he, - was sent to Narnia.

He had to help who ever screamed.

Edmund found himself running through the dark forest, jumping over bushes and fallen logs or branches, and dodging trees.

Another scream. Edmund tripped on a badly placed root. He got right up and began running again. It wasn't long before he found himself running straight into a camp of men. These men were cruel and evil looking. They all wore the same thing; a chain mail shirt, blue leather jerkin, grey leggings and boots. All heads turned towards Edmund, still clad in his English clothes. The boy turned and prepared to run again but was caught by the arms by two tall men.

One of the men sitting at the camp stood up and strode towards Edmund. "Ah ha," he laughed, "Sopespian, go tell Lord Moredhel we found a…" the man looked Edmund up and down, "unusual gift for him."

The man called Sopespian stood and walked out of the camp area and into the dungeon.

The man in front of Edmund addressed the men holding the boy, "Uvilas, Belisar, take this one inside. He'll be waiting to see his prize." Edmund was roughly dragged inside of dungeon.

It wasn't much, honestly. Many dimly lit hallways that smelt foul. Edmund was roughly dragged up the stair case to the second level. One of the men, Edmund thought he was Belisar, looked back and then signaled something to Uvilas. They both put Edmund down.

The boy whirled around and prepared to fight but Belisar put his hands up in a sign of defense. "We're not going to hurt you, boy."

"Quite the opposite, actually." Uvilas added. Edmund lowered his hands, still not trusting these men. Uvilas looked at Belisar, "He doesn't believe us."

Belisar sighed, "Look, kid, we're Telmarines, I know, but-"

Edmund was beyond shocked, "Telmarines, in Narnia?"

Uvilas snorted, "We have you been for the past thousand years?"

Edmund shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably, "That's actually quite a long story."

"We don't have time for…" Belisar's voice drifted as got a better look at Edmund. They were standing near a torch so they could actually see each other. "Wait…you mean, you're…King Edmund…?" The boy slowly nodded his head, confused by their actions. Belisar looked at his friend and said, "We've gotten ourselves into a bigger mess than we can handle…"

Suddenly they heard footsteps down the other side of hallway. Both Belisar and Uvilas paled, the latter of the two opened the door behind him and pulled the other too in. It was an empty cell. Before he shut the door, Uvilas grabbed the torch.

"What's going on here?" Edmund demanded.

"No time!" Belisar exclaimed, "Look, we'll get you out of here but it's important you kept quiet, alright?"

Edmund shook his head but before he could say anything, Uvilas cut in, "I heard the Kings and Queens of Old only set foot in Narnia when troubling times were raising…maybe he's here to end them. I mean, when the nation was suffering under the White Witch's control, the four of them came through a door of sorts and ended the Witch's cruel reign and brought peace to Narnia."

"How'd you come by such knowledge?"

Uvilas shrugged, "I spent a lot of time in the library."

"I can't leave though," Edmund said causing both men to look at him, "I heard screaming outside. I think that's why I'm here – to help whoever is being held captive."

"You mean…_that_ prisoner?" Belisar sounded scared. "The prisoner that is so near and dear to Lord Moredhel's heart?" His voice was dripping with all the scorn and sarcasm the man could muster.

"Who is he?"

"Well, I've never talked to him or seen him but some say he's an elf."

Uvilas added, "I heard he was royalty even."

Edmund sighed. This was too much to take in. First Telmarines and then Elves? "Since when we're there Elves in Narnia?"

Uvilas shook his head, "Oh never, he's not from Narnia. He's from a place they call Middle-Earth." He's heard of Middle-Earth. Back in the Golden Age, there were rumors of a land much like Narnia but very different. The rumors say that the land was inhabited by men, a race of creatures called Elves - many in Narnia described them as magical beings. A different race of dwarves lived in Middle-Earth along with beardless dwarves called Hobbits. Edmund never did believe the rumors, however. Peter wanted to see if they were true. It was said there were doorways to Middle-Earth – one was near Cair. Peter wanted to send troops through the doorway to see what there was to see.

"If he's the one you need to help…"

"Then we'll have to turn you in to Moredhel…"

Edmund nodded.

Belisar sighed sadly, "Alright but we'll come and get you two out when the time is right. Is the coast clear, Uvilas?"

Uvilas slid the little door open and peered out. He shut it and said, "As clear as it will ever be, my friend."

Belisar nodded and grabbed Edmund by the arm. Uvilas did the same. The door opened and Edmund was once again being roughly pushed down the hallway. They went up another little staircase to the third level and then down the hall to a room with doors that looked like the doors to the throne room at Cair.

The heavy doors swung open and revealed a throne room – if one used the phrase 'throne room' lightly. A single throne sat at the end of the hall. A tall malicious figure made his way to the two men and Edmund. The torch light revealed the extent of the figure's wickedness. Coal black hair was tied back in a braid down the man's back. Cold dead eyes bore into him. Too much this man reminded him of Jadis. He won't let the man corrupt him like Jadis did.

That's when Edmund saw the man's ears. They weren't round like a human's, they were pointed! He was an elf…

"What do we have here…?" The man's voice reached his ears. It was evil but melodious at the same time.

"W-We found him wandering outside of the…outside of the dungeon, my lord." Belisar said with mock-fright.

Dark eyes bore into Edmund, searching his soul, finding his deepest fears and thoughts. Within a minute, Edmund thought he was going to be sick. The ma – Elf smirked. "Put him with the other one. He's getting lonely."

Belisar and Uvilas bowed their heads and then left the throne room. Edmund allowed him himself an exasperated sigh once the doors were shut. "So is that...?"

"Only the sickest, evilest creature you'll find in this world," Came Belisar's reply.

Edmund was guided down to the second level, where the other prisoner was being held. Uvilas turned to him, "And you're sure you want to do this, your Majesty

The boy shook his head, "Edmund's fine, and yes, I have to. That's why; well that's why I think I was sent here."

"We stick to the plan; you and he will be out of here in a week." Belisar said.

Edmund chuckled, "Make sure you stick to the plan then."

Uvilas nodded, "When the time's right, we'll come and get you."

Edmund was once again being dragged down the hallway. They stopped in front of cell door where two men, dressed much like Uvilas and Belisar, were standing guard. "What's the meaning of this?" the first guard said, staring at Edmund like he was nothing better than a dirty rag. He resisted the urge to scream at the man, telling me that was once a king of Narnia in the Golden Age. Edmund remained silent.

"Lord Moredhel requested he be put in the same cell as the other prisoner."

Without a word, the guard growled and thrust the door open, throwing Edmund into the cell and slamming the heavy metal door shut.

* * *

><p><strong>(1 hour before…)<strong>

The cell was dark and cold; four walls made of cold stone. The only source of light was a missing stone at the very top of the wall. Heavy chains bound a sullen creature to the dismal place. The creature wore only a torn white blood-stained shirt and a pair of dark leggings. Cuts and bruises ran up and down his arms and along his chest. A gash ran the length of his cheek, following his jawbone. His complexion, usually pale, is now deathly-white. His eyes had lost all color, all life. Any life that had once shown in them is now gone. They were as lifeless as he was. His body screamed in pain. It felt as if his body was on fire but he did not dare cry out for there was nobody to cry too.

He was alone; completely, utterly alone. Something told him that he once had friends – people that cared but they were gone now. They didn't care about him. If they did, he wouldn't be in this cell. They would have come save him.

…wouldn't they?

A tear escaped from his eye. It ran down his cheek making his wound sting. He cringed a little but did not cry out. If he did he would be punished. Punishment ranged from lashings to knife down his back. He did not know peace. He never felt calm or safe. Always he feared what would come so he sat there, staring into the darkness. All day and night he sat there and did nothing yet he was still punished. What did he do to deserve this? Why did the Valar forsake him?

What did he do wrong?

He knew the answer perfectly. He convinced himself of it months ago. _He was a monster_. That's why nobody cared about him, why nobody came to save him. _They were trying to get rid of him._ That's why he had to endure such pain every single day. Nothing stopped the pain from coming. Even if he sat by and didn't do a thing the pain still came. He was given food but he didn't eat. He thought maybe he'd stave himself. Eventually he'd die from starvation and he would have to live through the pain.

Nobody would care if he died. Nobody cared he was being put through such pain. If they did they would have came for him! There was nobody out there that cared. He's been forsaken by everyone he once knew. He was a shame for the Elven race. The light hid from him because it was ashamed. He didn't deserve light. Light represented beauty. Monsters don't deserve beauty. He was nothing but a monster.

The moon was sad for the dying elf lord.

A beam of moonlight shone through his little window. But it quickly faded; much like he was now. He was fading. Soon his soul would be gone from Arda. Hopefully it would find the Hall of Mandos – but not likely, only pure souls go there, not one that has the heart of a monster. He'd be force to wander Middle-Earth as spirit. The light faded and darkness was all he knew.

And the moon was sad for Elrond of Rivendell.

* * *

><p><em>Why can't you just leave me to die in peace?<em> Elrond thought to himself as the metal door swung open. But it was not Moredhel instead it was a human boy. The guards roughly threw the boy inside the cell. The guard snickered as he shut the metal door, imprisoning them in darkness.

He cursed Moredhel for putting such a young boy in captivity. He was barely into adulthood.

Room was dark but they could still see each other – a little.

Edmund was overwhelmed by the smell of blood. The gaurds didn't bother to lock him up so he was free to move around but he stayed where he was. The other prisoner was chained to the wall so he didn't find it fair that he move while he could.

The pains of captivity could be seen on the elf's face. His eyes were dead and showed signs of giving up. Right then and there he made a promise to himself to bring him back to life. He was supposed to save this elf yet he didn't even know his name.

_Well, guess I should start at the beginning._ Edmund sighed and said, "I-I'm Edmund."

He didn't know why he was so scared. It's not like the elf could hurt him. Maybe it's because he was talking to what he thought before was a legend. _Well,_ Edmund thought, _you didn't think Narnia was real either._

Elrond would have responded right away but he hadn't used his voice in nearly six months. The boy, Edmund, was the first person in months that had shown him kindness. A tear escaped and rolled down his cheek. With all the strength he could muster (which wasn't a lot, mind you) he told the boy his name. "El…Elrond."

He left off the 'lord' part. He didn't find it fitting and he didn't think himself worthy of such a title – not anymore.

_Think Edmund, Think! Simple conversation, don't force questions upon him too soon. Get to know him first. Everybody has their own story, learn his first._

"How'd you end up here?" Edmund winced at his question. _Well that was a completely idiotic move on my part._ "Forget that," Edmund began, "You don't have to…"

Elrond cut him off, "They burnt my home down." Edmund was shocked his even answered. "They trapped me inside and then…"

**XxFlashbackxX**

_The smell of smoke reached Elrond, even inside of his study. The ellon's head rose slowly as it dawned on him, something was burning. The elf rose and quickly walked out of the room. In a blind haste, he searched for the source of the smell. He didn't understand his own worry. It was probably just coming from the kitchens but why would he be able to smell smoke from the kitchens when he was all the way on the other side of the Last Homely House?_

_Worry knitted at Elrond as he endlessly searched for smoke. He found it odd he met no other elf in his search. It was as if the House was deserted._

_The next thing he knew was pain. Something fell on top of him and pinned him to the wall. He could taste blood trickling down his throat. Then it became very hot and he could hear the crackling of a fire. The last thing that entered the elf lord's mind was golden haired friend._

_A whisper escaped him, "Glorfindel…"_

_Darkness met him__._

**XxEnd FlashbackxX**

"For six months straight I've been tortured endlessly. He never stops and he won't until he kills me."

Edmund was in awe. He didn't think Elrond had the strength say his own name yet he told Edmund how he got here without any trouble. Edmund suddenly felt like he owned Elrond. He suddenly remembered Belisar and Uvilas and how they had a plan to get them out of this cell.

He knew only know thing; he will get Elrond and himself out of this.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note:<strong> And this ends the awful and painful introduction chapters…for now. Well this chapter nearly took the life out of me but I'm quite proud. It's my longest chapter yet – a total of 2,907 words (that's SIX pages!)

Anyway…I'm not that good at writing dungeon scenes so I was sitting there ripping my hair out and yelling at my poor laptop. I think I did an okay job, if I can say so myself. I gotta admit I must have reread two certain stories over and over again while writing this chapter. Those stories were Queen Su's _"Telmarine Tower: Susan's Adventure"_ and Tamuril2's _"Darkness within."_ Two very very very well written and amazing stories that everybody should go read if they haven't already.

Please note, I know Elrond might have came off a little cold in this chapter but please bear in mind, he's spent six months being tortured.


	5. Through Hell and Back

**Author's Note:** So who else saw the trailer for _The _Hobbit? I was kind of disappointed Elrond wasn't in it but I'm willing to look past that. The trailer looks awesome! I think they're going to do an amazing job on this movie. I'm starting to understand why Frodo and Legolas are in the movie. I still don't get why Galadriel is in it. Was she in the book? I can't remember. Anyway! I want to thank everyone who reviewed and put this story on story alert – I love you all! The name of this chapter was inspired by Zammy's review.

**Disclaimer:** I solemnly swear I own nothing besides Moredhel and some evil little creatures that show up in the next couple of chapters.

_**Warnings:**__ Mental torture – you'll see what I mean._

* * *

><p><strong>Mark of the Beast<strong>

**Chapter Five: Through Hell and Back**

He's been here a week already. Really, he wasn't expecting an early rescue but a week in a dungeon was starting to drive him insane. Once he was nearly convinced the walls were closing in on him.

Edmund remembered what Elrond had said; _"For six months straight I've been tortured endlessly. He never stops and he won't until he kills me."_ He couldn't imagine spending _six months_ in a cell and not go insane. But the elf seemed perfectly sane – or that's what Edmund _thought._

Moredhel had a habit of coming to 'visit' them every day. He used the term _very_ loosely. He was sick of watching Elrond be strung up and whipped day after day and not being able to stop it. Sure, he could try to interfere. True, he wasn't chained up but the last time he interfered (the first and last time) Moredhel turned around and whipped him. Elrond also gave him a hurt look, like the elf thought he caused Edmund's pain. The boy gritted his teeth and refused to show any emotion.

It hit Edmund right there and then. Moredhel was tricking Elrond into thinking he was forsaken. He forced thoughts into Elrond's head – thoughts that convinced the elf that nobody cared about him. That nobody would come to save him because they were happy he was gone.

And it was made clear to Edmund that he must convince him otherwise. That he was truelly loved and there are people looking for him trying to get him out of this hell.

When Moredhel was finished with his sick games for the day, Belisar would sneak Edmund bandages and water to tend to the elf. Elrond was usually unconscious by the time Belisar came. However, there were those rare occasions when Moredhel used some sort of elixir that kept his prisoner awake during his 'visit' which made tending to the elf all the more harder. He wasn't Lucy; he wasn't good at helping the wounded.

One day, after Moredhel finished his sick games and Belisar had just left Edmund the bandages and water he needed, Edmund knew when he tended to Elrond's wounds the pain would be too much for the elf to handle. Even though the elf would probably be glad to focus on the pain - to make sure he was in so much pain it actually did kill him – but Edmund couldn't let that happen. So he tried to avoid the pain by striking up a conversation.

The only thing left to do was to think of a topic that wouldn't bring Elrond too much pain.

_Well let's see…his home was burnt down. He thinks his friends have forsaken him. His family – ah, he hasn't mentioned his family yet. Let's start there._ Edmund only hopped the subject of 'family' didn't bring up painful memories for the elf; like it had to him once.

He tried taking yet Elrond did not respond. He didn't even cry out as Edmund tended his wounds. The elf's eyes had a glazed and faraway look which made Edmund worried. The boy sat there for five minutes watching the elf bleed, trying to deem if he was dead.

Which brought up an interesting question; what if Elrond did die? What would Moredhel do with him? Ah, it's not time to worry about such thoughts yet.

It was then Edmund noticed the elf was crying. Silent tears streamed down his face. His eyes were unseeing. His mind caught in endless nightmares.

"Elrond, wake up! They aren't true. What he's telling you – they're all lies!"

* * *

><p><em>You're worthless. They have forsaken you, why can you not just accept that? They would be glad to see you dead. What I did – aye, I admit I was the one who burnt down Rivendell – was a favor to them! You are nothing to them. Even your own family refuses you.<em>

No, you're lying.

_Ha! Lying, truly Elrond you're reputation precedes you. "The wise Lord Elrond" more like a fool. A disgrace of the Elven race! That's what you are – nothing but a disgrace._

No!

_Yet you still struggle to understand the truth! That's what I am speaking, mellon-nin, nothing but the truth._

Do not call me that.

_What? Mellon-nin? Ai, Elrond! You hurt my feelings. Here am I thinking we were friends._

Don't mock me.

_Not talkative, huh Elrond? I'll have to change that next time I visit you. Oh and how is your little human friend? I hope you know he does not care about you either. You're alone in this world, Elrond. That choice of immortality isn't looking too smart now, huh? Don't you wish you could have died along side your brother, Elros?_

There was no response from Elrond.

_Ah, struck a nerve did I? Aw now, do not cry! It should warm your hurt to know that the only one who cared about you was your brother – and he's dead._

No dhinen.

_Ah ha, none of that Elrond. Or do you want me to teach you how to behave. I'm more than willing too. You will be broken by the time I'm finished with you, Peredhel!_

Gwanno ereb nin!

The voice left Elrond's mind.

* * *

><p>When he woke, Elrond was perfectly aware he was crying. He didn't care through. It wasn't like he was ashamed, for he had no reason to be. Everyone he knew has forsaken him. The pain was unbearable; the pain of being unloved, knowing that whatever you do, nothing will change the fact that you <em>don't mean a thing<em> to the world. Nobody would care if you died. They never cared for you at all. They just put up with you because they had to.

Moredhel usually liked to physical abuse him – to remind Elrond who was in charge. So entering his prisoner's mind was something new.

"Elrond?"

Yes, that's right…he wasn't alone. He had forgotten about Edmund for awhile. He wished the boy wasn't here – he shouldn't have to go through this. He was just a boy.

"Elrond…what did he do?"

He didn't mean the beating, he saw it happen. But torture never brought the elf too tears. He's had his heart broken many times before; so many times, in fact, some have called it unfixable. Yet not like this, _never_ has he had his heart broken like this. Never have it been made know to him just how alone he really was.

His parents were gone, left him and his brother at a young age. He and his brother were kidnapped and raised by the kin slayers, Maglor and Maedhros. Then Elros decided mortality instead of immortality and the two were separated forever. He watched as his king, Gil-Galad, was killed. He went through the torment of having his wife leave Middle-Earth to sail to Valinor. Elrond knew sadness – but it was nothing like this. It felt as if his very soul was being torn in two and was being left here in this dungeon cell to fade away into nothing.

What did he do to deserve this? Why did the Valar forsake him?

"I just wish he'd kill me already…" Elrond said, not knowing he spoke out loud.

"There are people out there who care about you. I know it may not seem like it but they're out there. _You're not worthless._ You _have _to fight back."

The elf never responded but the tears kept coming.

Edmund sighed, "I've felt betrayed once. Maybe that's why I ended up here. I don't know much about Elves. Where I come from…Elves don't live where I come from… I suppose you know that by now," he shook his head. This wasn't going the way he planned. "I was young when I found Narnia…I was stupid and I did something very foolish. I betrayed my siblings to the White Witch. She said…she said she'd make me a king and my siblings would be my servants. I was tricked, she put me in the dungeons," Edmund laughed, "sounds familiar, huh?"

The boy was eager to continue when he saw Elrond smirk. But he stumbled over this part of the story, since it was the exact same thing that was happening to Elrond now,

"I…I had to watch…her t-torture…somebody for answers. She was looking for my younger sister, Lucy. She was the first human to walk in Narnia for awhile. We were a part of a prophecy. The Witch wanted nothing but to make sure the prophecy didn't come true because it would mean her downfall. The Witch dragged me across Narnia in her sleigh. I watched her torture Narnians, turning them to stone with her wands. Aslan found me and freed me from her clutches. I was lucky. My family forgave me for what I did."

He looked for a reaction from Elrond but the elf sat there watching the little missing brick that served as their window. It was night-time. He could see a bright star shining high in the sky.

"What I'm trying to say is; whatever evil Moredhel is convincing you off, your family will forgive you." Then it hit Edmund. The evil Moredhel was trying to convict Elrond of wasn't a crime; it was that he simply existed.

Edmund was about to correct what he said but Elrond look at him and said, "That means…you're King Edmund the Just."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Ahh…shorter then I wanted but I'm kinda happy about it. I had much more planned for this chapter. I had something that went along with Edmund's quote about family and I was going add something with the rest of the Pevensies, Aragorn and Trumpkin but I decided to leave that for another chapter. I wanted to focus on Elrond for this chapter so you guess can understand how messed up his mind is right now (it's important for later chapter)

Thank you for reading and please review and tell me what you thought! Oh and Merry Christmas, just in case I don't get anything out before then!

_Elvish Translations:_

Ai: _Ah_

No dhinen: _Be silent_

Gwanno ereb nin!: _Leave me alone!_

Peredhel: _Half-elven_

Moredhel: _Dark Elf_


	6. The Warrior in the Shadows

**Author's Note:** Looking back at my outline, I noticed I'm actually behind on where I'm supposed to be in the story, so I'll be abandoning Elrond and Edmund for a few chapters so I can catch up with Aragorn and the Pevensies and the Elves. Hopefully Moredhel doesn't try something while I'm gone…

**Disclaimer:** As usual, I do not own anything besides Moredhel and his evil servants that appear in this chapter. All rights go to JRR Tolkien and CS Lewis.

* * *

><p><strong>Mark of the Beast<strong>

**Chapter Six: The Warrior in the Shadows**

Lucy looked up and saw a gnarled beast looming over her. It was sitting on the wall adjoining to the entrance to the treasure room. It had leathery purple skin and fiery red eyes. Four claws were on each hand. It had armored skin that looked like something you'd find on an alligator. Thick matted fur ran down the length of the creature's back. It wore a collar around its neck and bracelets on its wrists that reminded Lucy of shackles on its wrists. The creature bared its teeth and two yellow sharp yellow fangs showed. Its teeth were yellow, its gums black. It was a creature from a nightmare.

A man stood a few feet away from Lucy. A sword was in his hands. "Whatever you do…don't move."

Lucy took the man's advice. Not that she could move anyway. She was too petrified. Suddenly a noise from down in the treasure room made Lucy turn her head to the entrance. The creature took its chance and lunged but never met its mark. The man had thrown a rock at its head. The creature instead lunged at the man.

Susan and Peter reached the top just as the creature landed on the man. Susan took out her bow and shot the creature. It turned its head to look at Susan and growled. The man took this chance, took out a dagger he kept in his boot and stabbed the creature in the chest. It growled at the man. He twisted the dagger. The creature gurgled and black blood trailed out of it's month, landing on the man's face.

The man pushed the creature off of him and sat up, whipping his face with his sleeve. Lucy slowly walked over to him. "Thank you…"

The man looked up and smiled at her, "I could not let a little girl get hurt when I could stop it."

"Who are you?" Susan asked once she and Peter joined Lucy.

The man looked at her and said, "My name is Aragorn."

"I'm Lucy, and this is…"

"Peter and Susan…High King and Queen of Old Narnia…"

Peter and Susan shared a shocked look, "You know who we are?"

Aragorn nodded, "I do, so do many others. Though, I'm sad to say they might have forsaken the hope that you would come."

"The others?"

"The Elves."

Lucy's face brightened in wonder at the mention of Elves, "I didn't know they were Elves in Narnia…" she said looking up at Peter.

"Oh no, they aren't from here, as aren't I. They're from a land called…"

"Middle-Earth."

Aragorn looked up at the boy, "You know of it?"

Peter nodded, "There were rumors of a land called Middle-Earth when…" he looked over at Susan, "when we ruled over Narnia."

Lucy looked at Aragorn, sadness and disappointment was written all over her young face, "How long has it been…since we left?" She somewhat doubted that Aragorn would know but there was always that small glimmer of hope.

"Nearly a thousand years…" Lucy looked up at Peter in shock, "six months since you were called back."

"Do you know who…called us?"

Aragorn nodded. He stood up and pulled his dagger out of the creature's chest. The wind blew and suddenly the creature started to glow a soft gold color. Starting at its feet, a gold mist circled around the creature replacing it with a young man with long golden hair. He wore a light blue and green tunic. The young man looked up at Aragorn and whispered a week "Thank you" before taking his last breath

"The creature…it was a man?" Susan whispered in confusion but Aragorn shook his head.

"An Elf, actually, there's five of them. They were traveling from their home land to an elvish haven through a path in the mountains. They got waylaid and captured. Their kidnapper twisted their very souls and turned them into his slaves, a band of creatures called Gurth Lhach – Death Flame. They're now destined to walk this earth killing every innocent person until they are killed."

Lucy was sickened by what she heard. How could anybody by so cruel to turn somebody into a monster?

Aragorn knelt down next to the crea – Elf and whispered "His sense of duty was no less than yours, I deem. You wonder what his name is, where he comes from…what his story was. What lies or threats led him on this long march from home, and would not rather have stayed there…in peace and escaped of this fate? This war will make corpses of us all."

"What war?"

Aragorn turned to face the three of them, "Perhaps I should explain."

"Yes, perhaps you should." They turned and saw a dwarf standing there watching them, a small smile on his face.

* * *

><p>The doors to the throne room swung open and in walked a middle-aged man. The throne room had marble floors. A decorated throne was placed on the dais at the end of the room. Next to it was a pedestal where the king's throne would be placed when he wasn't wearing it. Each side of the room was lined with lesser thrones for the lords of the castle.<p>

The man was Glozelle, General of King Caspian's army.

"I pray you have good news, General?"

"Depends on how you take it."

The King turned to face his general. His eye glared daggers. "I know no time for sarcasm, General. Has the Elf-Threat been dealt with or not?"

"For the most part…yes."

"For the most part, General?"

A while back, Lord Protector Miraz was killed by an elf, who the Telmarines dubbed 'The Warrior in the Shadows.' It was during a public greeting in the courtyard. Miraz stood on a balcony with his wife and nephew, Caspian X. The last king, Caspian IX, was planning to renew old ties with the Elven Kingdoms of Middle-Earth that were made in the very first days of Narnia; the days of the first King and Queen – Frank and Helen. The king was planning on traveling to an elven haven known as Rivendell or, in the language of the elves, Imladris. That's when Miraz killed his brother for the throne.

Miraz was sickened by the fact his brother wanted peace with the Elves.

**=Flashback=**

"_They're no good, only will bring our nation harm." Miraz had said one day._

_Caspian turned to him saying, "King Frank and Queen Helen obviously thought they were good people."_

_Miraz snorted, "What do a barbarian king and queen know? They were no better than the Elves!"_

"_Do not speak of what you don't know, brother. My plans to travel to Rivendell stay, and you, or anybody, will not change that."_

_As Caspian strode away, Miraz sneered quietly, "We will see about that, brother." That very night Caspian was killed by his brother's sword._

**=End Flashback=**

They never got the killer's name, but it was certainly an Elven arrow that pierced Miraz's heart. Many were convinced it was an Elf from Rivendell who was the killer. That's when somebody visited the castle to speak to the heir to the throne, Caspian the Tenth. The man was actually an Elf who was banished from Rivendell. He said he had a pretty good idea who was the killer and he could help Caspian catch him but only if Caspian agreed to helped him first.

The Elf's name was Moredhel – or that's what he said to be. He all together didn't seem very trust worthy. The Elf used Caspian to carry out his own plans. Moredhel wanted the lord of Imladris, Elrond, dead but he didn't tell this to Caspian. He proposed they raided the valley, setting it aflame and killing all who remained there. Everybody else on the council could see Moredhel was using Caspian, but the king was blinded by grief.

After the raid, the king didn't deem this enough. Moredhel had disappeared, along with many of Caspian's most trusted advisors. The king sent out riders to try to find to the killer. They were not successful, even though – unknown to them, the killer was right there under their nose, in Narnia.

The General hesitated, he was not one who enjoyed disappointed his King, even if he's a cruel as Miraz. "We've lost the Elves' trail. But we are working endlessly to pick it up again, hopefully, we shall find it soon. But the raid was successfully, their lord has been captured."

Caspian turned to his General. "You better hope you do find their trail, General, or the consequences will be high."

Glozelle bowed his head and said, "Yes, my king," before leaving the throne room.

* * *

><p>"Whatever possessed you to bring us <em>here<em>?"

Glorfindel turned to look at Erestor, "I know whoever attacked Rivendell took Elrond here."

Erestor thought about this for a minute then said, "How do you know Lord Elrond even made it out?" Or course it didn't seem like it but it pained Erestor to say that. He knew, just like Glorfindel did, there was a chance that Elrond never made it out or Rivendell…that he burnt to death.

"Of course he made it out…he…I…he made it out. I know he did." Glorfindel sounded lost and broken.

"He'd be here right now it if wasn't for me…" Erestor said quietly but Glorfindel still heard it.

The blonde elf became stern. "You said yourself Elrond would have wanted me to get everyone to safety before I even gave him a thought. Well, guess what? You count as 'everybody'."

Erestor suddenly became angry; totally expected of the smaller elf but it still surprised Glorfindel. "Do I? No, really think about it. Do it? If it wasn't for me, Lord Elrond would be right now. If it wasn't for me, _Lord Elrond would be alive_!" The elf stormed away, leaving Glorfindel to his thoughts.

The elf sat down on a rock…or was it part of a ruined wall? He couldn't tell. He took the surviving Elves into Narnia, to what used to be known as the Western Wood. They took refuge in old ruins that seemed to be from the Golden Age. Erestor's right. He had no clue want he was doing. Why would he decide to take them here? There was always Lothlorien. The Lady would understand – she'd probably know why they were there before they even left Rivendell. There was even…no, Glorfindel would rather Narnia over leading everyone through Mirkwood. Who knew if Thranduil would even grant them stay in his house? Besides, it was too far from Narnia, which meant it would take longer to get Elrond back.

"Why so sad, Glorfindel?" Young Elrohir's voice reached his ears.

Immediately the blonde elf felt tears welling in his eyes. Ai, Elrond, why did you ever decide to have children? He couldn't imagine how hard this was on the twins. And another reason they couldn't go to Lothlorien, Arwen was there visiting her grandparents. No doubt she has heard the news already, but Glorfindel didn't want to be the one to tell her. The children had already lost their mother. How would they handle losing their father too?

Somebody touched his shoulder. Glorfindel's head jerked up. He was surprised to find his view clouded with tears.

Elrohir was sitting next to him, looking at him concerned. "Why are you crying?"

Glorfindel looked back down at the ground, "I'm sorry…"

"For what?"

"Elrond…"

"Ada is still alive."

"But how do you know?

Elrohir shrugged, "I guess I would have felt if he was killed. I would have known if he was dead. But he's not and we're going to get him back, alright? Don't give up hope. _Hebo estel._" Glorfindel couldn't help but smile. "There we go. I have to go help Elladan. You're going to be ok." It wasn't a question but Glorfindel nodded anyway. When Elrohir was talking, he could almost see Elrond sitting next to him saying _exactly_ what his son had just said. The boy was so much like his father.

Glorfindel stood up and turned. The sun was just about to set, painting the sky in colors of pink, red and yellow. He was reminded of the last time he laid his eyes upon Rivendell. Suddenly, he became sad again. "I will find you, Elrond."

The wind blew through golden locks and he swore he could hear it whispering, _"__I know you will."_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas! I sure did. This chapter would have been out sooner if I didn't get Final Fantasy 13 for Christmas. I've been playing it non-stop and put off finsihing this chapter. ;) I'm back now!

This was, sadly, a filler chapter. I had to have the Pevensies meet Aragorn and Trumpkin. And I wanted to show the struggles the Elves went through after Elrond was captured. I promise the action will start to pick up soon.

Oh and about Narnia, I've changed a few things (after all, this is AU, right?) Caspian is king, and he's evil (for now!) Yes, this does take place in _Prince Caspian_ but I, as you can see, changed _a lot._

Please review and tell me what you thought!

* * *

><p><span>Elvish Translation:<span>

Gurth Lhach: _Death Flame_

Moredhel: _Dark Elf_

Ai: _Ah_

Ada: _Father_

Hebo estel: _Have hope_


	7. Through Narnia

**Mark of the Beast**

**Chapter Seven: Through Narnia**

"We should be going this way!"

"This way leads to a dead end!"

"Look, you said you need to go to the Western Wood. The quickest way to get there is if we follow the Great River and cross through the Fords of Buena!"

"Well…yeah maybe," Peter started walking again, soon to be stopped when Aragorn said, "if you want to get us all killed."

The eldest Pevensie turned to face the man, "What?"

Aragorn sighed in exasperation, "The Telmarines are under control of Buena, always have been."

Peter got angry, "Wouldn't that be something worth mentioning?"

"Look kid, I didn't run halfway across Narnia _and_ Middle-Earth to find _you_, to be treated this way!"

Peter's High King senses started to kick in. He thought to himself, '_Kid? Kid! How dare he call me a kid! I'm a king and a high king at that! Who does this guy think he is?_' Before he could voice his thoughts, Susan cut in; "Look, the longer we stay here, the longer whoever we came here to save is in danger!" She gave Peter a hard look, "And, Edmund remains lost."

Neither Aragorn nor Peter admitted it but Susan had a point. The longer they stayed their arguing; the longer Elrond is being tortured. Aragorn suddenly felt selfish for only thinking about getting his way _again._ He's done this plenty of times when he was growing up in Rivendell. He used to argue with his foster brothers, Elladan and Elrohir, until they finally gave in to whatever they were arguing about.

"Alright," Peter, much to Aragorn's surprise, said, "we'll go your way. And when we get lost, we'll turn away and go my way – and get to the Western Wood."

In the end, they did go with Peter's plan and follow the Great River until they reached Buena. It was then they ran into trouble. The Telmarines were busy building a bridge across the Great River.

At the great river, they were all crouched behind a pile of logs. The Telmarines were building a bridge across the river. They ducked down behind the logs when three horses rode up to the camp. The leader was a young man with long dark hair. He was young, maybe a year or two older then Peter.

Peter noticed when Aragorn tensed up, then balled his fist, gently hitting the log. Why was he so angry?

"Perhaps this was the best way to go after all."

They left that area quickly. Aragorn nearly had to crawl so he wasn't seen by the Telmarines.

They found themselves standing on top of a high rock ledge. It was steep and a very long drop if one was to fall. Peter was not one to lose his head standing at great heights but even he had to hold on to a plant, even though the plant would not save him if he fell. A stream with a strong current flowed below them. If one was to fall, he or she would surely drown.

"See, over time water erodes the earth's soil. And decom-"

"Oh shut up." Aragorn could help but laugh.

Edmund looked down at the dwarf, Trumpkin, "Is there a way down?"

"There's always falling," Aragorn suggested. "There's a ford near Buena. How you do feel about swimming?"

"Better that then walking."

They all left the ledge but Lucy lingered behind. Aragorn stopped and waited for her, curious at what the girl may be looking at. He couldn't see anything. Suddenly the girl cried out, "Aslan? It's Aslan, over there!"

Aragorn had to think back on who she was talking about. He remember Erestor teaching him about Narnia when he was a child. He could remember anything about an 'Aslan.' He was going to ask but he felt this wasn't the time. The rest of them turned to where Lucy was pointed. They saw the same thing Aragorn did; nothing.

"Do you see him now?"

The man winced. That must have hurt. There was nothing more a child hated then to have an adult tell them something they thought was true was really untrue – like the adult thought that the child was crazy. There were many times this happened to him when he was growing up.

"He was there. He wanted us to follow him!"

"Look, I'm not about to jump off a cliff after somebody who doesn't exist."

"I wish you'll stop acting like grownups. I did seem him and he _is_ real." Lucy walked closer to the edge – closer then Aragorn liked. Suddenly the man grew nervous. "He was right over…" The ground underneath her feet gave way. The girl fell through. Aragorn leapt forward, looking to catch her, but he overshot it and missed. He tumbled over the edge, just grabbing the edge at the last moment.

"_Lucy!_"

"_Aragorn!_"

Everything was alright though, well at least Lucy was okay, and Aragorn still faced the fear of failing.

"Everything is alright! No need to fear!" A strained voice called up. Peter gave him a hand up. Only to be going down the next minute. There was a natural staircase leading down to the stream. If Lucy never saw Aslan, and didn't fall through, they would have never found it. Aragorn found himself making a mental note to remember to thank this 'Aslan' person.

_Splash, splash, splash,_ they all walked through the river. They went stumbling over rocks, getting their shoes and cuffs of their pants – or hems of their skirts in Susan and Lucy's case - wet.

When they finally got through the river, they found an isolated grove near the Wood that severed as their campground. Aragorn had found it during one of his travels in Narnia. The grove would have to be sought have if they were being searched for. It was surrounded by thicket and the trees were grown close together.

Lucy came back with firewood. A small fire was made. Indeed it was small. Nobody wanted nearby enemies to find them. Or even people on their side to think they were enemies and come to kill them.

When the sun set, everyone settled down to get some sleep, but Peter was restless. He wanted to know why Aragorn got so angry at the Telmarines.

"Aragorn?" Peter whispered. No answer. He thought the man was asleep but he tried again anyway. "Aragorn?"

The man rolled over, "Yes Peter?"

"Do you know…back at the Telmarine camp, why were you so angry?"

The man smiled, "You noticed that?" Peter nodded. "The Telmarines took somebody I love, somebody very near and dear to me. I am going to get him back. I imagine that's why you're head too, and that's why the Elves have come here."

Peter nodded again, "First we need to find Edmund, my brother."

"Haven't you put two and two together yet, Peter?" The boy just stared at him curiously, "We find the person I'm looking for, and we find Edmund. You're all a part of a prophecy that was made by an Elf long ago;

_When snow and spring shall fade,_

_When the Lion returns with fire,_

_Those below him shall be crushed,_

_In the bloodied footprints of death._

The prophecy didn't make any sense to Peter. "What does it mean?"

Aragorn just shrugged, "I don't know," he yawned, "I didn't make it up." With that, Aragorn was asleep.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> _Please Review! _Short, I know, please don't kill me! I was going to add something at the end but I thought leaving it with the prophecy was enough. I promise longer chapters in the future!

So who do you guys think made up the prophecy? (_Hint:_ It's not Elrond.) 5 points to the first person who answers correctly!


	8. What Lucy Found

_**Author's Note:**__ Alright, so we're getting somewhere in the story…kinda. :\ Since the beginning of this story it basically followed the story line of Prince Caspian. This chapter will take it in a whole different direction. We were going North before, but guess what? We're going south now! …I'm so lame. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! And don't forget to review!_

* * *

><p><strong>Mark of the Beast<strong>

**Chapter Eight: What Lucy Found**

When they finally stopped to rest, they figured out they had nothing but apples to eat. Aragorn clearly wasn't hungry, however. He was keeping himself busy by throwing his apple up in the air and catching it.

Susan finally snapped, "If you're not going to eat it, give it somebody who will."

The man offered it to the rest of them, everyone but Susan just groaned in discontent. He threw it into the woods. It hit a tree, which caused the birds that were resting in it to fly away. A small rabbit, barely enough meat for the five of them, scurried into the camp site. Aragorn and Peter looked at it lustfully.

Nobody moved, not wanting to scare it. Finally Aragorn dared to speak, "Peter, grab my bow."

Susan twisted around to look at it. In hushed, but angry, voice, she whispered, "Aragorn! You really wouldn't kill a sweet little rabbit, would you?"

Aragorn, just getting his bow from Peter, glared at Susan, "You sound like my father. Yes, yes I would kill a rabbit because it means we'd have something other than apples to eat for a change! If I even _look_ at another apple I will kill something much more innocent than a _sweet little rabbit_!"

Lucy decided right there that Aragorn was scary. Suddenly she feared for her life and prayed nobody showed Aragorn an apple anytime soon.

"Lucy, don't look," Aragorn said as he fitted an arrow on his bow and shot the rabbit. Lucy winced as she heard the arrow hit its target and the rabbit fell to the ground dead.

Their kill was cooked under a small fire. Since they didn't want to get noticed by nearby enemies (or elves that thought they were Telmarines), they couldn't risk a bigger fire that would give off a lot of smoke. Cooking on nothing but embers was a very brutal and long process. Everyone's stomachs were groaning in protest when Aragorn deemed the rabbit cooked enough. Under-sized portions of rabbit meat were divided between the five of them. Lucy decided that she felt hungrier than before they found the rabbit…or when the rabbit found them.

It was getting late as the sun ducked behind the trees and the distant mountains. Everyone decided it was high time they caught some sleep.

As the night grew shorter, Lucy found it harder and harder to fall asleep. She was far less tired then everyone else, and found it much harder to find a comfortable position to sleep in. There was a tree root here and a pointy rock there. She also found out that both Aragorn and Trumpkin snore in their sleep. All dwarves snore but Aragorn was a surprise. She spent most of the night starting up at the bright Narnian stars. Looking at the stars only resulted in Lucy becoming more awake then she already was.

Finally giving up on sleep, Lucy sat up. She was startled by a rustling sound somewhere in the woods. Then she heard the sound of a twig snapping, much closer than the rustling. She rose into a sitting position and turned to where she heard the sound. She saw a flash of gold disappear into the thicket. Lucy looked back at her sleeping companions. Gently, she shook Susan, trying to wake her up.

"Susan…Susan, wake up. There's something out there."

"Of course, Lu, whatever you like."

Lucy huffed in exasperation. Next she quietly snaked her way over to Aragorn. The man was sleeping on stomach, his arms acting as a pillow – a position Lucy thought she'd find uncomfortable. She shook him gently to no avail.

"Oh please, won't you wake up? Something is out there!"

Still nothing.

Lucy gave up on attempt to wake the others and decided to find out for herself what caused all the rustling. It was most likely a person that miss-stepped trying to sneak away. Or a large animal like a bear. She hardly believed it was a bear.

Taking on last look at her companions, Lucy ran into the thicket. She followed a path up a hill and down to a lake. Near the lake she stopped and crouched down behind a tall bush, rearranging the leaves so she could see what was happening but they could see her.

There were two people sitting at the lake. Lucy couldn't see the first one very well considering he had his back towards her. But he had long blonde hair and the only reason Lucy could tell it was a man was because of his slender yet muscular build. The second had dark hair and grey eyes. He seems considerably younger then the first.

"We should be focusing on getting Elrond back. It's obvious they aren't coming. We've wasted enough time waiting," the second said. Who was Elrond? And who were they waiting for?

The first sighed and put his head in his hands, "I know…I just can't believe I wasted my time with that damn horn."

The second smirked, "What would my father think of you using that language around me?"

The first said something in a language Lucy couldn't understand. The second spoke again, "You couldn't have know, Glorfindel. We were chasing fairy tales. We all thought it would work."

Glorfindel? Lucy suddenly remembered something Aragorn said a few nights ago, "_I'm trying to find a friend of mine. His name is Glorfindel and I have reason to believe that he took the rest of the Elves into Narnia._"

So these were the Elves that Aragorn were trying to find! Oh this was just fantastic-

"Stand up."

Alright, maybe not so fantastic.

Lucy went rigid when the tip of an arrow hit her back. "I said stand up." She started trembling as she did as the man said. The man…or Elf, named Glorfindel turned around and called out,

"Elladan, what's wrong?" She couldn't help but notice a hit of concern in his voice – none for her though.

"Oh nothing, Glorfindel, just caught me a little Telmarine spy."

_A Telmarine spy? No! I would never! _"You have this all wrong! I'm not a Telmarine!"

The second elf, the one who Lucy still didn't know the name of, said, "Aye, I must agree. She doesn't look like a Telmarine…"

Elladan snarled at elf in a rather rude way, "You haven't seen a Telmarine before!"

"Neither have you!" The elf yelled back, "Glorfindel has."

Lucy looked at him pleadingly. The blonde elf just crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. "She doesn't look like one. And please Elladan! She's a child! Even if she was a Telmarine, there is no need to be so rough." She could feel Elladan withdraw his arrow from Lucy's back. He pushed past the girl roughly, so roughly that she almost lost her footing. That's when she noticed his ears. They were pointed unlike human ears which were round, so all three of these people were Elves.

Lucy felt like crying. She shouldn't have left the campsite at all. She should have just stayed were she was and try to fall asleep. Oh how could she be so stupid? However, it felt as if Aslan was leading her here so maybe she wasn't so crazy.

She didn't notice when Glorfindel sent the other two Elves away. "Come here, child." When he sensed Lucy's hesitation, he smiled and added, "I promise I won't hurt you."

The girl still didn't trust him but she took a few hesitant steps towards the Elf. Lucy was called Valiant during her reign in Narnia. If she had a second title it would be 'the Trusting.' She was quick to trust people. But anyone who was close to death only a few seconds ago wouldn't be easily trusting with anyone.

Glorfindel sighed when Lucy stopped a few paces away. "That's as close as you're getting isn't it?" Lucy nodded. "I don't blame you. You don't even know me!" He got down on one knee so he and Lucy were at eye level. "My name is Glorfindel, as I'm sure you heard. I'm an Elf. And since you're not a Telmarine, you must be a Narnian, which means we're on the same side."

"Why are you here? I don't remember any Elves in Narnia." She had this conversation when they first met Aragorn but the man didn't tell them why the Elves came to Narnia.

"I'm looking for somebody. Someone the Telmarines took away from me. That's why Elladan was so quick to assume you were a Telmarine. They took this person, Elrond; they took Elrond away from us and burnt down our home. We're fighting to get him back," Glorfindel sighed and stood up, walking towards the lake and away from Lucy, "If only the Kings and Queens came…this would have been so much easier."

Before she could stop herself, Lucy blurted out, "They did come!" Glorfindel quickly spun around to face her.

"What did you say?"

"They did come! My name is Lucy the Valiant, Queen of Narnia."

* * *

><p>Something woke up Aragorn in the middle of the night. He wasn't sure what it was and he officially hated whatever it was. He looked over at his sleeping companions; Peter was asleep next to him, Trumpkin was sleeping against a tree trunk near Peter, both Susan and Lucy were sleeping…<p>

Lucy!

Aragorn sat up quickly. The youngest Pevensie was missing from their small group. His mind and heart started racing. Where could she have gone? Why didn't he know she left? How could he lose her? He vaguely remembered her trying to wake him up. Oh, how could he be so stupid?

The man began looking for any signs of which way she went. Without bothering to wake the others, Aragorn took off up the path Lucy took, following the young girl's footsteps. Surely he was awaking animals and any nearby people (good or bad it didn't really matter at this point) but he could really care less. He was too busy to yelling at himself for being so stupid.

He dropped down to his knees at the muddy bank of a small lake. This was it. He _lost_ the youngest Queen of Narnia. How? _How_ could he be so – wait, what was that? Aragorn looked to his side, noticing a small line of footprints, leading away from the lake. There was somebody else too. A much lighter pair of footprints, somebody who was extremely light on his feet. The foot prints were so light only a Ranger could have found them.

They were footprints that belonged to an Elf.

His breath caught in his throat. The Elves! He'd found them! Well...Lucy found them. Same difference, right? Either way they found what they were looking for.

This was when Aragorn picked up fair voices, clearly elven, and a little girl's voice.

Following the footprints, Aragorn went up another path, ducking under low tree branches and stepping over fallen logs. He stopped when he found something stuck in tree branch. It glistened in the moonlight, almost radiating light. It was a strand of long golden Elven hair. He started laughing, Glorfindel must have gotten stuck. That or the Narnian trees didn't like him.

He stepped out into a camp – a better word would be ruins. He saw something running towards him. A small figure…a small girl – Lucy!

"Aragorn! Aragorn, we've found them! The Elves!"

Laughing, he got down on his knees and caught Lucy by the shoulders. "No, _you_ found them." She looked at him, confused. "_You_ saw Aslan. _You_ led us across the gorge. _You_ left the campsite and found the Elves! Lucy it was all you!" Lucy laughed and threw her arms around Aragorn's neck.

"I didn't mean to, you know," She said when she pulled out of the embrace. "I thought Aslan was here. I thought I was following Him but it led me to Glorfindel instead." She turned around saw the golden Elf standing there smiling.

"Nice to see you again, Aragorn."

In an hour, everyone was awake and in the Elf camp. Trumpkin was welcomed but felt very out of place in camp with Elves, who were very tall compared to a dwarf. At least Glorfindel at a glimmer of common sense and found some shelter when he got to Narnia.

They were introduced to the other elves.

"Alright, I'm seeing double," Peter said.

Aragorn laughed, "The correct term, Peter, is twins. This is Elladan and Elrohir, my brothers."

"You're not an Elf," Susan said, stating the obvious.

"Yes, I'm not. My father was killed when I was just a boy. I was brought in and raised by Elladan and Elrohir's father, Lord Elrond."

Lucy nearly reeled in shock, "Elrond…so it's your father we're trying to save?"

The twins shared a grim look; both wishing Aragorn hadn't told them. Oh well, they would have figure out eventually. Before either could speak, Peter interrupted, "How are we suppose to tell you two apart?"

"Oh that's easy," Elrohir said. Aragorn knew he wasn't going to like this answer. "I'm the funny one."

Elladan snorted, "More like the stupid one."

"Take that back!"

"You take it back!"

"I didn't insult you!" Elladan remained silent. "Exactly, that's what I thought." Elrohir stormed away.

They all remained silent until Susan sighed, "So it's easy, Elrohir is the melodramatic one."

"Ah, you'll find a way to tell one from the other…even though I totally agree with you, Susan," Aragorn said.

There was one elf that Lucy and other Pevensies made sure they would make sure to steer clear from. His name was Erestor. It was clear that he was a person who was use to being left alone. It seemed liked the other Elves were afraid of him, well everyone beside Glorfindel. The blonde elf was constantly bothering Erestor. At first glance, Lucy thought he was so cold because he just needed a hug. Those thoughts were quickly dispelled.

When Glorfindel was showing Lucy and Susan around, they came across Erestor. Lucy instinctively hid behind Susan – who didn't seem scared of him.

"Hello Erestor!" Glorfindel cried out in a loud, overly joyful voice. Erestor just walked past them, muttering something rather rude under his voice. Glorfindel responded with something either Lucy or Susan couldn't understand. Erestor stopped, turning around, and glared at Glorfindel – which made both girls think they didn't _want_ to know what the blonde elf said.

Their knew companions might take some getting used too but at least they found the Elves, which was one step closer to finding Edmund.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Note:<strong>__ Please review…please?_


	9. An Evil Plot & A Royal Departure

_**Disclaimer:**__I own nothing. All credit goes to JRR Tolkien and CS Lewis._

_**Author's Note:**__ This was _supposed_ to be a chapter about Elrond and Edmund, but then I was struck with an idea. I promise to get back to those two soon!_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Mark of the Beast<strong>_

_**Chapter Nine: An Evil Plot & A Royal Departure**_

In Middle-Earth, a large Elven forest known as the Forest of Mirkwood, once Greenwood the Great, was just waking up. The sun shone on the spider infested forest. The Prince, Legolas son of Elvenking Thranduil, was just returning from patrol.

"Prince Legolas," one of the guards said, bowing in respect. Legolas nodded his head and proceeded up the stairs when the guard called out, "Ai, Prince! Your father wanted to speak to you; his majesty said it was important.

Legolas nodded and smiled, "Yes, hannon le."

It didn't take Legolas long to find his father, there weren't many places he could be found. What confused Legolas was he found his father in the throne room, court was in session. Now why his father would start court without him was beyond Legolas. _Something important must have happened_, Legolas thought as he pushed open the doors to the throne room. Nearly every head turned to look at him.

"Ai Legolas," Thranduil said, "I'm glad you could join us."

Slightly embarrassed of how he looked, do not forget he had just returned from patrol so he didn't get a chance to change or wash, Legolas walked down the centre of the throne room and sat on his throne beside his father's.

Court was the same as always; Lords and Captains repeating the same old things every day. It got rather dull after or awhile. Legolas didn't know how his father sat through his every day – he even _enjoyed _it. He found himself zoning out and dreaming of Imladris. Things never got boring there. How could it? The twin sons of Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir, lived there and even Lords Erestor and Glorfindel knew how to keep things interesting.

Nearly a month ago, a delegation of Elves was sent from Mirkwood to Elrond's realm of Imladris. Legolas found himself wishing he was chosen to lead it. He honestly didn't understand why he _wasn't_. When he asked him, Thranduil simply said he needed him in Mirkwood.

Court was finally ending, Legolas found himself sitting more intently than before – to make it look like he was paying attention the whole time. Nobody seemed to pay him any attention.

The Elvenking stood and walked towards the large windows "It has been nearly a month, my son," Thranduil said, "Two weeks since I sent the delegation to Imladris – and still no word from Elrond. I should have known the Half-elf never had any respect for my people."

"That's not true!" Legolas cried out, standing from his throne, "Hir Elrond had shown nothing but respect for our people. It is you who have no respect for him."

After the words left his mouth, Legolas regretted saying them. It was unlike him and out of order for him to speak out against his father. But in truth his father had indeed shown no respect for Elrond. He didn't know what it was about the Peredhel that bothered his father. Maybe that was just it, maybe it was because of who Elrond was, a Peredhel – a Half-elf, half elven and half man. It...still didn't make sense.

"What I'm trying to say…" Thranduil was cut off by a messenger entering the throne room.

The messenger was dark haired, an elf from Imladris. He noticed he was interrupting something, "Forgive me, your majesty, my Lord Glorfindel asked me to bring this letter to you." Legolas then noticed the letter clutch in the Elf's hand.

Thranduil nodded, "Bring it here."

The messenger did as the King said. He handed the letter to Thranduil and swiftly left the room. Legolas joined his father near the windows. The letter read;

_Dear King Thranduil, Elvenking of Mirkwood,_

_ I hope you could find it in your heart to forgive us for not sending word sooner. The valley of Imladris was attacked. Nearly everything was lost, most of our people made it out safely. Yes, I know you do not care about where we fare. Whether or not your people reached Imladris or not remains a mystery to me. The attack came from the pass in the Misty Mountains, the path your people most likely took. I fear they must have been way laid and killed by the attackers. Another matter delayed this message, Lord Elrond; he has been captured, for reasons unknown to me. If you wish to find us, I take my people south, into the realm of Narnia._

_Lord Glorfindel, Captain of the Rivendell Guard, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower._

Legolas reeled in shock and nearly missed the wicked smile that came over his father's face. How could he possibly be _happy_ about this? It is true that Elrond and Thranduil did not get along but surely the Elvenking was concerned! Elrond could die…or worse, already be dead! No wonder they didn't get word from Imladris sooner. Legolas was mentally scolding Lord Glorfindel for sending word at all with everything that was going on.

There was strange activity that Legolas didn't think strange until now. An Elf came to Mirkwood about two months ago. The Prince couldn't tell what race he was. He had coal black hair, eyes that nearly met the same color. He reminded him strangely of Lord Erestor but a lot darker. The Elf wished to a private audience with the King. Now usually Legolas would be present as well but Thranduil sent him away, merely saying 'We speak on matters that do not concern you, boy.'

He was confused after that; his father never spoke like that to him. Whoever that Elf was, he was clearly important – in good or bad way, Legolas did not know.

And now, after reading Glorfindel's letter, he was convinced that Elf was behind the attack on Imladris.

"Should we send help? Better yet, I'll go and help them…" Legolas rambled on and on until his father stopped him. Thranduil was over near the windows again.

"No…no, my son, that will not be necessary," he said in a clam collected voiced that spooked Legolas more than the letter.

Legolas turned slowly and faced his father, "You mean we shall not help them?"

"Why should we? What has Elrond ever done for me that I should repay him?"

The Elvenking didn't get an answer for his son had stormed out of the room in anger. This wasn't right. He had to help – he _was_ going to help Glorfindel and the others. He cared far too much for Lord Elrond to sit back and let him die. Legolas ran out of the castle and down to the stables, quickly preparing his horse for a quick getaway. That's when a hand came down on his shoulder. Out of fright, he spun around, one of his knives out and ready. Nobody was stopping him now. The stranger turned out just to be his friend, Castiel.

He narrowed his eyes, a playful smile on his face, "You scared me."

She just laughed. Nodding towards his horse, "Where are you going? You just got back from patrol. At least I'm pretty sure that's where you were, you smell terrible."

It was Legolas's turn to laugh, "The spiders were extra playful this morning." He turned to his horse, "As for where I'm headed, I'm going to Narnia."

"Narnia? What do you have a death wish?" Castiel shouted. "Narnia is more dangerous than our forest!

"_Sedho!_"Legolas ordered pulling his friend deeper into the stables. "Look, I'm certain I am not supposed to repeat this, but Imladris was attacked and Lord Elrond is gone. I'm going to Narnia to find Lord Glorfindel; he said in the letter he took the rest of the Elves in Narnia."

Castiel shook her head, "Legolas Thranduilion, you never cease to surprise me." Legolas had walked over to his horse, softly chuckling to himself. "So, how can I help?" Legolas looked up in shock. She was never one to seek adventure. "Well I'm not letting my Prince go off and get himself killed."

Castiel was one of Legolas closest friends. However, she was different than the other elf maidens in Mirkwood – that's why Thranduil didn't like when the two spent time together. As his father put it, she didn't spend her time in 'womanly pursuits.' That was simply because she had to keep her family fed. Her father died in a spider attack leaving his pregnant wife alone with Castiel and a soon-to-be-born elfling. Legolas, after hearing about this, took it upon himself to teach her to hunt. The two formed a friendship rather quickly.

Another reason Thranduil didn't like her, she wasn't from a noble family. His father believed his friends should consist of Elves in noble families.

After thinking about it for a minute, Legolas said, "You could distract the guards so I can make a quick getaway unnoticed."

She seemed to consider this, "Or I could come with you."

He looked up in surprise, "You want to come with me?"

"Face it Legolas, I am a danger to you and your 'quick, unnoticed getaway.' I know where you are going, refuse me coming with you, and I'll warn the guards of your departure."

Legolas growled. Castiel had a keen talent of getting what she wanted. "Fine you have thirty minutes to gather supplies and meet me at the Old Oak Tree, the one with the boulder next to it. Now hurry!" Castiel smiled, kissing Legolas on the check before leaving.

The Old Oak Tree was their meeting place whenever the two would go hunting together. It wasn't the path Legolas wanted to take, leading into wolf dens and spider nests, but Castiel wasn't that familiar with the forest. Her mother had recently fallen ill which meant she had to stay home more often and care for her family. Yet she arrived on time, with a few minutes to spare.

Castiel jumped on her horse and took off only saying "Onward to Narnia!" It was always a contest with her; who had the faster horse, whose shot was more accurate (Legolas usually won that one.)

Legolas rolled his eyes, mounting his own horse and following his friend. '_She's going to get herself killed acting like that._'

* * *

><p>A single rider on a blonde mare rode swiftly down the path towards them. It was a woman, an Elf. Lucy could see her pointed ears as she drew closer. She wore a white tunic with green embroidery; light brown boots, and grey leather gauntlets. She looked young – even on Elf standards. She could've had centuries on Lucy. The new Elf was different than the others here. She had blonde hair instead of dark hair. Her eyes were green instead of grey.<p>

"She's a Silvan Elf," Aragorn whispered beside Lucy, "of Thranduil's people." The rider drew closer, slowing her horse to a trot until stopping completely. Aragorn stepped forward, "And what do we have the honor of calling you, Elf?"

Lucy rolled her eyes; something telling her this wasn't the first time Aragorn has done this. Sure, we were in a war but there was no need to be so forward – she hasn't even gotten off her horse! And Lucy somewhat doubted that the Elf wouldn't stand a chance if she's named traitor.

But the Elf laughed, "_Castiel eneth nin._"

Aragorn responded in the same language, "_Man sad telil_?"

"I come from Mirkwood, Ranger."

Not understanding, Lucy looked up at Glorfindel. He chuckled before translating for her. The new Elf had said her name was Castiel. '_What a pretty name,_' Lucy thought. Aragorn had asked her where she came from; apparently a place called Mirkwood. It was pretty ironic, such a pretty name for a girl living in a dark sounding place.

Glorfindel looked up, "Thranduil would send such a young Elf into one of the most dangerous places in the world, _alone_?"

Castiel looked sad, "Ai, I wish that was the case, Lord Glorfindel. But nay, I came on my own accord," she twisted around, "and not alone. My Prince should have been right behind me."

Lucy could almost she Aragorn's fear rise when she said 'my Prince.' It was clear Aragorn knew him – he seemed to know a lot of Elves. Lucy was about to suggest the ride out and try to find him when the thundering of hooves reached their ears. It was another Elf, clearly from the same realm. He had the same blonde hair yet blue eyes.

"I fear you've won this time, my friend," the rider said to Castiel, who smiled in content. "Do not get use to it." He dismounted at greeted Aragorn. The two seemed to be very good friends.

Glorfindel stepped forward, "what brings you two to Narnia?"

Legolas turned to face the elf, "Shocking responses to your letter, Lord Glorfindel." The Elf raised an eyebrow in question. Legolas continued, "My father didn't seem affected at the news of Elrond's captivity. He even seemed – I regret to say – relieved it has happened."

Everyone – even Castiel – looked shocked at the news. "That does not sound like Thranduil…"

"After he read the letter, a wicked smile appeared on his face. I asked if we should help, even offered to go myself. He said it wasn't necessary. When I asked why, he asked me what Lord Elrond has ever done that Thranduil would need to repay him."

"He practically raised you!" Aragorn shouted. He was silenced by a glare from Legolas, "or so I've heard…"

Lucy couldn't help but laugh a little. That was the first time the newcomers noticed her. Legolas looked at her, than at Aragorn, looking for an explanation. The man looked at his friend, confusion clearly written on his face. Then the man remembered his friend had just arrived.

"This is Lucy," Aragorn said gesturing over to her, "Queen of Narnia – before it was the dark place we now it." Legolas smiled, turning to Lucy and bowing. She suddenly felt embarrassed as she gracefully curtsied to him. "You two have a lot in common. Mirkwood used to be a friendly place to live before as well." The Elf just rolled his eyes and hit Aragorn lightly on the shoulder. Castiel walked over to Lucy, smiling. She knelt down in front of the girl, a playful glint in her eye.

"How about you and I let these boys work all the boring things out while you show me around – introduce me to everyone?"

Lucy smiled, taking her hand and leading her into the ruins. Castiel looked back and gave Legolas a knowing look.

She was right; Lucy shouldn't have to hear the horrible things they were about to discuss.

* * *

><p>There was a small room that remained intact. Part of the roof was missing and moss and vines covered climbed its way up the side of the wall. The only furniture in the room was a large wooden table with ten chairs around it. Only six of the chairs were filled. Aragorn a seat away from Legolas, Peter was sitting next to the man. Glorfindel was standing across from Legolas, a hard look on his face. The twins sat next to each other. Erestor stood near the door, his arms crossed.<p>

"Why don't you explain what happened, Legolas." Glorfindel said as evenly as he could

"Awhile ago, an Elf came to Mirkwood, I didn't know who he was or where he came from but my father looked mighty glad he was there. He wanted a private audience with the King."

Aragorn nearly cried out, "You still should have been there – you should know what they talked about."

Legolas nodded, "I know that, only I don't, because I wasn't there. Whatever it is they were discussing must have been important because as soon as the Elf walked into the room, Thranduil ordered me out."

Glorfindel's heart raced. He pounded his fist on the table, looking at Legolas with anger burning in his eyes. "What did this elf look like?"

Suddenly feeling nervous, Legolas answered hurriedly, "He had coal black hair, eyes that met the same color." Erestor looked up, suddenly very interested in what Legolas was saying. "His eyes were cold, dark - almost dead. I couldn't understand why he was there, his expression was inscrutable."

Elrohir suddenly cried out; Elladan wrapped an arm around his brother, pulling him close. "It's going to be alright."

Glorfindel sunk down into a chair, his head in his hands. Aragorn's expression remained passive, but his eyes screamed in worry. Legolas didn't understand what was going on; "What…?" No answer. "What is it?"

Glorfindel looked up, his hand falling to the table with a loud _bang_. His eyes shone with angry unshed tears. "You don't understand who that was…"

There was a long dreadful pause before Legolas answered, "W-Who was it?" Suddenly, he didn't want to know the answer.

"That was Moredhel…the very Elf that burnt down Rivendell and took Elrond captive."

Aragorn remained passive, "Your father helped plan Elrond's capture."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Note &amp; an Explanation:<strong>__ Originally, none of the Mirkwood Elves were going to be in this story; for two reasons. One; I considered the story complex enough without the bothersome Mirkwood Elves. Two; I don't like Legolas. I just don't see what the big deal is with him._

_As for the explanation; I know I made Thranduil seem abusive / dark whatever you want to call it. I honestly do not think he's like this. I think he's a good parent, I mean, Legolas turned out pretty good, didn't he? There is a reason I've made him like this – a reason you'll learn later._

_Oh, and about Castiel, in the words of Peter Jackson; "No, there is no romantic connection to Legolas."_

_Please review!_

* * *

><p><em>Elvish Translations:<em>

_Ai:_ Ah

_Hannon le: _Thank you

_Hir: _Lord

_Peredhel: _half-elf

_Sedho!: _Quiet!

_Castiel eneth nin_: My name is Castiel

_Man sad telil_: Where do you come from?


	10. A Test of Pride

**Mark of the Beast**

**Chapter Ten: A Test of Pride**

Edmund was beginning to lose count of how long they were stuck in this damn cell. It's been at least two weeks now. Belisar promised to get them out after a week. He should have known, never trust a Telmarine. He hoped Peter was out there somewhere, looking for him. Of course he was…wasn't he? Yeah, he was. Peter wouldn't leave him here. Even when he betrayed his family to Jadis, Peter came looking!

Yes…surely he would come and with help! Edmund looked over at Elrond, who was currently sleeping. _'Hopefully he'll come with the Elves.'_

He and Elrond were growing – what Edmund thought – the beginnings of a friendship. The Elf became more trusting with each passing day. He even became more open. The two would stay up telling each other stories of their lands. Usually after one of Moredhel's "visits," the stories helped take the edge off the pain.

Edmund hated this place and Moredhel more and more every day. With every wince or grimace, Edmund felt a burning rage gripping at his heart. He didn't care what it took – Moredhel _will_ die.

There was something about Elrond that seemed…familiar to Edmund. He couldn't put his finger on it, however. The Elf reminded Edmund of himself almost.

"I hope they come soon…"

A voice ripped Edmund from his thoughts. Of course it was Elrond, who else would it been? But the sentence seemed so…foreign coming from the Elf who, only two weeks ago, believed that there was no hope for him, that he would _die_ in this cell.

That's when it hit Edmund.

The new hope, the hope Elrond was beginning to believe in was because of him. He felt somewhat honored that Elrond trusted him ever a little bit – him, _a stranger!_ Not a few days ago, Elrond had said himself; "If I don't trust you, don't be surprised. Some people gave me good reason to not trust anyone."

Moredhel was giving him a damn good reason not to trust _anyone_.

Edmund winced as Elrond cried out once again as a fresh wave of beatings and tears crashed down on him.

'_I'm so sorry, Elrond. I wish I could stop him.'_

_Crack!_ Edmund winced. _Crack!_ Tears welled up in the boy's eyes. _Crack!_ Elrond let out a strangled scream. Tears flooded down Edmund's face. Why was this happening? _How_ could Aslan let this happen? He didn't deserve this, Elrond was a good person. _Nobody_ deserved this.

'_Hypocrite…'_ a small voice whispered in the back of his mind. It was right of course. How many times have he seen criminals being tortured? How many times has he _let_ it happen? Order it to happen? He was the judge back in Narnia, a criminal was put on trail – it was Edmund's hands his life was in.

This is exactly the same thing Elrond is being put through. His life is in Edmund's hands in a way. That means he had to stand up for him, which meant standing against Moredhel. Edmund could feel his heart rate accelerate in fear at the thought of standing against Moredhel. He looked over at Elrond beaten and bloody body and knew what he had to do.

"Stop this, your killing him!"

A wicked smirk played on the dark elf's lips, "Good." _Crack!_ The whip bit into Elrond's skin, leaving a sickening red mark and deep cut, drawing more blood.

Cold fear gripped at Edmund's heart. The blows were coming harder now. This was his fault. He was killing Elrond. The boy could almost see Elrond's body failing on him. If it wasn't for the chains that held him up as Moredhel enjoyed his sick games, Elrond would have had fallen over. Perhaps he was already unconscious.

'_Elrond, I'm sorry…_'

Moredhel suddenly stopped. Edmund just glared at him. He knew this wasn't over. The boy noticed this was the first time the dark elf brought his lackeys in with him. They were two young Telmarine men both of them Edmund didn't recognize.

"Unchain him."

Edmund felt panic rising again. What? Why? What was he planning?

The two Telmarines obeyed, silently going forward and unchaining Elrond from the wall. His body slummed forward. So he was unconscious. Moredhel was just continuing for the sick joy of it. Or…he needed Elrond unconscious for some other sick reason.

"Bring him."

Edmund's eyes grew wide. Bring him where? What was Moredhel going to do? He was met with no answers except a cruel smirk before the door was slammed shut and he was locked in darkness. A few minutes later, a horrified scream sprang out, vibrating through the stones and through Edmund's bones.

The boy started to cry and he stayed like that until he fell asleep.

Peter stood on the training grounds. The training grounds were a large field on the south side of the ruins. Weapon wracks were spread out around the field holding swords and shields, spears and axes. A section of the grounds were marked off for the archers. Susan was currently over there, trying to out-shoot the twins. Lucy was sitting by watching them.

Most of the Elves looked like skilled warriors; some look like they haven't picked up a sword in their lives. There was the she-elf from Mirkwood, Castiel. It seemed like she had the blood of a warrior. Then again, from what he learned, they – she and Legolas – came from a place where it is learn how to fight or perish. He talked to Castiel a few times. She might have been the only Elf that bothered to try to start the meager beginnings of a friendship.

He hated to admit it but he felt intimated by the Elves. Both Lucy and Susan became friends with most of the Elves rather quickly. But he kept himself at arm's length. The Elves seemed to love Lucy. He couldn't blame them, however. The Elves respected him, because of the whole "High King Peter" thing, but it never branched out into a friendship. He was beginning to feel lonely.

There was a person at the elf camp that Peter stayed clear of. He was a Wizard, Gandalf was his name. Because of Jadis, a being with any form of magic was evil to Peter. Maybe that's why he felt so afraid of the Elves.

"Need a sparring partner?" A voice cut through his thoughts. He turned around to see the very Elf he felt intimated by the most; Lord Glorfindel. A smirk was on his youthful face. "You look lost. I thought you might want somebody to spar."

Aragorn suddenly appeared next to him, clapping the boy on the shoulder. "Take his offer, he may not ask you again. Besides, you may even beat him."

Glorfindel snorted, "I'd like to see that. So, what do you say Peter? I promise not to hurt you." A dangerous but playful glint shone in his eyes.

Peter knew what he was doing – and it was working. The Elf was trying to make him mad, so he'll accept. "Fine." 

Since they arrived at the camp, they knew Glorfindel as somebody who wore their emotions on his sleeve. This Glorfindel was totally different. A clear, emotionless mask was put up as the boy and elf stood across each other, swords drawn, waiting for the other to make the first move.

It seemed like hours past before Aragorn, who was sitting nearby, called out, "You two going to fight or not?"

Glorfindel took this chance to lunge at the momentarily distracted Peter. The boy had barely enough time to bring his sword up to block the blow. "You did that on purpose!"

A smirk appeared on the Elf's face, "Nay, just mere luck." The Elf ducked jabbing the pommel of his sword into Peter's stomach, forcing the boy to the ground, momentarily winding him. Peter rolled over as Glorfindel's sword came down. Peter got up and swiped his sword at Glorfindel's legs. The Elf jumped just as they were about to hit him. Peter's sword came down harder with each blow. His breath came in gasping breaths, as did Glorfindel's. Using a large rock that was laying nearby, Peter jumped into the air and brought his sword down on Glorfindel. The force of the blow caused the Elf to lose his footing. Before he could stand, Peter put his foot on Glorfindel's wrist on his sword arm and his blade on the Elf's neck.

Glorfindel smiled up at him, "So, High King Peter really has returned."

"You doubted me?" Peter couldn't help but feel sad. He'd heard the stories of Glorfindel defeating a fiery monster called a Balrog, died, then came back to live. He was a legend. The last thing he wanted was somebody like Glorfindel doubting him.

But the elf shook his head, "I doubted Aragorn. I didn't believe he'd find you three."

The man called out, "This is what I lived with for the first twenty years of my life."

He turned his head, somewhat difficult because of Peter's sword, "Please, I'm better than Erestor!"

Aragorn nodded in agreement, "You have a point there, mellon-nin."

"Erestor?" Peter asked in confusion. He hasn't met all the Elves yet, this 'Erestor' being one of them.

Aragorn stood up, walking over to Peter. He clapped the boy on the shoulder in congratulations, said, "He's the scary one," and left.

Peter withdrew his blade form Glorfindel's neck and his foot from his wrist. The Elf grabbed Peter's ankle and pulled. The boy landed on his back. He laid there feeling shocked and confused. Glorfindel appeared in his line of vision, a smirk on his face. "I win." He offered a hand to Peter, which the boy gladly took.

The Elf was about to leave when a question came to Peter's mind. "Captain Glorfindel, may I ask you something?" The elf turned around slowly and nodded, "Well I was just wondering…since people keep talking about him…what I'm try to say is…" Peter sighed, "I just want to know what he's like, Elrond."

A smile appeared on Glorfindel's face, "Elrond is one to describe himself. You'll figure him out when you meet him."

Edmund awoke some later. In a dark cell with no windows except a missing stone you tend to lose track of time so Edmund had no clue when it was. Elrond was still missing so he guessed he hadn't been sleeping for that long. However, he could be completely wrong. There was no telling with Moredhel.

The boy stood up, walking over to the missing stone. He stood on his tip-toes so he could see out better. It was exactly how he left it two weeks ago, when he first arrived in Narnia. It was night time, the sky an eerie dark blue color. The dazzling stars were a bright contrast, especially one star that outshone the rest.

"Please…If anyone is out there…please, help Elrond."

He didn't doubt Aslan, nor did he not believe in him. Yet fate was a funny thing, and his faith was wavering.

"I don't care what happens to me…he doesn't deserve this. He's a good person! If anyone deserves this…it's me. Please…Elrond has done nothing wrong."

A funny thing happened then. The star flickered and seemed to burn out. When his fear was at the highest, the star started shining again, and brighter than before. A beam of light shot out and shined down on a certain part of the forest. Smiling, Edmund backed away his small little window.

His foot seemed to step off stone and on to fabric. Frowning, Edmund bent down, picked it up, and brought it to the light. It was a scrap of clothing, probably what Elrond was wearing before he was captured; a piece of red velvet with gold embroidery. It reminded him of what Peter use to wear when they were ruling Narnia. Driven by curiosity, Edmund bent down trying to find the rest of the garment.

"Come on, it has to be," Edmund's hand touched the soft material instead of the rough stone, "Ah ha!" Just like it thought, bundled up in the corner of the cell. Sliding into the small patch of light the moonlight, he examined the robe. He expected Elves to wear clothing that would have been deemed 'over the top' in Narnia. What he expected was some fancy but not over the top garment.

This was no such thing.

It was simple yet elegant; it looked like something a king or a lord would wear…

"I'm such an idiot!" Edmund laughed.

They didn't have to worry about not being rescued because Elrond was a lord! Of course his people would come after him! They wouldn't forsake him…unless he was tyrant. No, he didn't seem like a tyrant. Moredhel was the tyrant here. Hopefully they would come soon. He wanted to get Elrond out of this hell as soon as possible. If they were lucky, Peter would come with the Elves and rescue them.

The metal door was flung open. Edmund moved just in time for the door to hit the very spot he was sitting. An unconscious Elf was roughly thrown in, sliding on the blood stained stones until his skull made contact with the wall. The door was slammed shut after that.

Peter, Aragorn, and Glorfindel were in a small room set off from the rest of the ruins. It was one of the few rooms still intact. In fact, it was the very room they were while they found out Legolas's father betrayed them. Glorfindel and Aragorn were sitting at a small side table set off in the corner of the room. Peter stood off to the side.

"I'm worried…for when we actually find him," Glorfindel started trembling, like he was ready to burst into tears but he doesn't want to because Peter was there. "I don't want to find a lifeless body." A few tears did escape when he said this.

Aragorn sat down across from Glorfindel and took his hand in his own, looking at him with a hard gaze that said he wasn't given into this. "We're going to find him, and he'll be alive. You can count on that."

"How do you know?"

"Surely you haven't forgotten how stubborn Elrond is? He won't go down without a fight."

Glorfindel nodded. He remained silent before, "…what if it's already too late? It's been six months, Aragorn. Six months of…oh, I can't even imagine what Moredhel has done to him."

"Elrond is stronger then he looks. He'll make it through." Peter noticed Aragorn did add, 'okay' or 'alright' after. That's because they both knew their friend would never be alright after this. He'll always be haunted with memories. He's seen many times in Narnia. Rescuing prisoners from wars that only go off and kill themselves after. The memories were too hard to handle.

Peter began to understand why Aragorn wanted him here; to see who the _real_ Glorfindel was. Not just the Captain of the Guard, a real person with emotions and worries. Surely out in public he'd put on a brave mask so the others don't start to worry more than they already are. Glorfindel was their leader now. If their leader started to give up hope, what was the use of staying strong? What was the use of believing there was still a chance Elrond would be alright – that he'll live.

"I want to get him back, Aragorn."

"And we will, Glorfindel! We will, trust me."

Glorfindel's eyes grew dark with seriousness, "No, I want him back _now_."

A smile came across Aragorn's face, "Let's go rally the Elves."

When they walked out of the room, they were met with a great surprise. Narnians were gathered in the centered of the ruins. Aragorn went to take his sword out but Peter stopped him. There was something different about these Narnians. They looked almost familiar. But how could that be? They were all dead – died nearly a thousand years ago, Aragorn said so himself.

Lucy came running up to him, "Isn't this great, Peter?"

That's when he locked eyes with a certain centaur. "Oreius!" The boy jogged forward, clasping the centaur's arm.

Aragorn and Glorfindel shared a disbelieving look. "Peter, what is going on?"

The centaur, Oreius, spoke up, "Under Aslan's command, the Old Narnians have returned to serve under Captain Glorfindel's banner."

Glorfindel walked forward almost nervously. He has heard stories of Narnians before, as a child they served as a fairy tale to get him to sleep. But here he was surrounded by centaurs and Minotaurs, satyrs and fauns, gryphons and all sorts of other talking animals. 

Oreius spoke again, "Aslan Himself has seen the treachery that has taken place here and wishes it to be undone for the sake of Middle-Earth and Narnia."

Glorfindel surveyed the ruins again, taking in all the shocked faces of the Elves and the determine faces of the Narnians, all looking at him. Peter walked up to him, his sword drawn. For some reason he instinctively felt his own hand twitching towards his blade.

Peter declared in his noble High King voice, "I, High King Peter the Magnificent, under Aslan, offer you, Glorfindel, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower, Captain of the Rivendell Guard, my sword." He stuck the sword into the ground and knelt down on one knee. The others followed Peter's example, offering their weapons to Glorfindel and kneeling. He caught Aragorn's smirk as even he got down.

"Today is a glorious day for both Narnia and Middle-Earth. An evil wrong has been dealt on both our lands. It's time to we undo that wrong." He looked past the Narnians, addressing the Elves now, "My fellow Elves, I can see in your eyes the loss and pain you've felt these past days. I'd be lying if I said I did not feel it too.

"Elves, it's time we get our Lord back!"

Nearly everyone started cheering. Peter had a pretty good idea the cheering started with Elladan and Elrohir. Many were thinking the same he was. The twins were getting their father back; was that not a reason to cheer?

_And Edmund,_ Peter thought to himself locking eyes with Susan, _It's time we get Edmund back as well._

_**Author's Note:**__ I love that feeling after you finish a desperately hard chapter. And that's what this was; desperately hard. This was just a filler chapter leading into the next chapter, but it's more important than I thought it would be. For example, the Narnians came back – the Elves desperately needed them. Peter and Glorfindel became friends – which is important for the future. And you guys finally learn what has been happening to Elrond and Edmund – their friendship is important as well._

_Oh and forgive me for Glorfindel's lame speech. I've never been good at speeches…_

_Please review!_


	11. A Daring Rescue

**Mark if the Beast**

**Chapter Eleven: A Daring Rescue**

Edmund pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapped his arms around them, and cried softly to himself. Elrond was lying near him unconscious. His wounds were extreme. Edmund's ears were still ringing. The boy had just witnessed the worst "visit" yet. It was the day after Moredhel took Elrond out of the cell for reasons the boy still didn't know. The Elf was too tired to say and Edmund didn't want to push him.

'_Please…Aslan, if you're listening…save Elrond. I'll take his place! He doesn't deserve any of this.'_

Moredhel was extra tough this time. Edmund decided that it wasn't because of anything Elrond had done. It was simple because Moredhel enjoyed seeing him in pain. Once again, Edmund found himself wondering what Elrond could have done to end up like this. He learned the Moredhel had burnt Elrond's home down while he was trapped inside. Someone must have got in and gotten him out. That still doesn't explain why he was here or why Moredhel did all that.

'_I don't care what it takes…you will die for all you've done. I don't care if I'm the one who does it or not. I just want you dead.'_

Elrond looked so peaceful when he was sleeping but Edmund knew better. He knew that inside the Elf was fighting a war. His hands were clenched in fists, eyes shut tight, trapped in an endless nightmare. Edmund hated seeing him like this. The Elf was in pain, yet the boy couldn't comfort him.

'_Please just hold on, Elrond. I'm going to get you out of this…I promise.'_

Elrond groaned in his sleep. The boy became tense. These night fits weren't uncommon but they still bothered him. It was Moredhel's way of keeping Elrond under his control. The dark elf somehow could get inside Elrond's mind, torturing him that way. Again, another way Edmund couldn't protect his friend. Aye, it's gotten that far. Edmund was actually somewhat glad. It was one step towards healing. The elf actually trusted him. It was a good feeling, being trusted. Yet all the boy could offer were empty words that meant nothing.

'_Please, Peter…if you can somehow hear me…please come quickly.'_

* * *

><p>"<em>If you're so upset because of this, why did you even re<em>_turn to Middle-Earth at all? Why did you accept the role of Captain of the Guard when you _knew_ the risks of getting a wound like this were high! You…"_

"_Do not put the blame on me Elrond! You sent me out there. Because of your order I got t__his wound. And because of you I'm going to die. It__'s your fault." Glorfindel did notice the tears brimming in Elrond's eyes yet he was too angry to care. He turned his back on his lord and growled, "Leave."_

Glorfindel shook the memory out of his head. It was a long time ago, yet the pain was still raw, especially right now. When he was out on patrol, they were ambushed and attacked by Orcs. A warg had snuck up behind Glorfindel and jumped him, bringing a claw down his back, mortally wounding him. If it wasn't for Elrond, he would be dead. Yet all Glorfindel did was blame him.

"Elrond, I'm sorry…please, hang on, alright? I'm coming…"

Nobody heard him but Peter, who looked at the Elf in concern. The boy put his hand on Glorfindel's arm, causing the elf's head to jerk to the side. "You ready?" The elf just swallowed and nodded.

They were at Moredhel's dungeon, ready to save Elrond and Edmund. Glorfindel and Peter stood in the forest, near the entrance. There was a fire burning, a camp of men – Telmarines – standing guard. Soon they will all be dead. Elladan and Susan were standing guard with some other elves. Elrohir and Legolas were flown to the top of the building by gryphons. Peter found that ironically funny. Not a few days ago, the Elves didn't even trust the Narnians, they thought they were evil. Glorfindel even _killed_ the Narnia king – well, Telmarine king but he was king of Narnia so…

Anyway! Peter watched as an arm wrapped around one of the Telmarines; A knife coming down and stabbing him in the chest – instantly dead. He thought that was Nestaron but it was dark and he wasn't sure. Out of the corner of his eye, Peter saw two of the Telmarines sneaking out of the camp. He softly nudged Glorfindel's arm with his elbow, pointing over to where he saw them. The elf nodded in understanding, grabbing a tree branch and climbing up to pursue them. Peter followed on foot, afraid he'd make too noise if he'd followed the way the elf went – or worse, knock Glorfindel out of the tree.

When he was getting closer, he saw Glorfindel – who, because of his elven abilities, was further ahead – jump out with his bow drawn and ready to shoot right in front of the men.

They both reeled in shock. Peter drew his sword and ran forward, stopping when he right next to Glorfindel.

"Move and you're both dead." Glorfindel ordered.

The older man regained his composure first, "No, no! We're on your side!"

Peter snorted, "Right, two Telmarines ready to help an _Elf_."

The younger man, whose bow Glorfindel was pointed at, looked at the Elf in shock, "You…you're the Warrior in the Shadows. The one who killed Miraz!"

Glorfindel pulled the bow string back further, "How do you know me? Nobody saw me leave." Peter mentally smacked the Elf for admitting he was the one who killed the Telmarine's king. He guessed it didn't really matter to Glorfindel if the Telmarines knew him or not.

The older man spoke again, "Your sword…" He looked up at Peter, "Oh Aslan…" at the mention of Aslan, Peter lowered his sword. "You're High King Peter!"

Peter lowed his sword completely, "I am…"

"You're brother is inside!"

Glorfindel became frantic, "Where is he? Who else is in there?"

"Just one other, an Elf I believe…I never did got a good look at him."

Glorfindel dropped his bow, pushing past the younger man and grabbing the older man by the shirt and shoving him against a tree, "Where is he?"

"Uh, I – I can take you to him! Just please…please don't kill me, I have a wife and two kids!" Peter couldn't help but laugh, the classic phrase used by almost _everyone_ who was about to face death. It seemed to work though; Glorfindel withdrew, bending over to grab his discarded bow and arrow. Peter just hoped they weren't walking into a trap.

They walked through the trees and into the same camp where Susan, Elladan and five other Elves were waiting for them. At the sight of the two Telmarines, both Susan and Elladan pulled their bows out. Glorfindel put his hand up, telling them everything was alright and these two were going to lead them to where Elrond was being held.

"They're being held," the older man, Belisar, explained, "on the second floor. It should be the only door with guards watching it. Unless Moredhel knew you were coming and put guards on other doors to trick you."

Glorfindel nodded, thanking the man in Elvish (which Peter had to translate for him), and then addressed the other Elves (and Susan), "Susan, Elladan, stand guard out here just in case more Telmarines decide to show up." He turned to two other Elves, "Nestaron, Thalion, be ready out here with the stretcher when Peter comes with the signal – we're going to need it no doubt." He turned to Peter, "You ready?" The boy nodded, feeling confidence surge through him, "Let's do this."

Elrohir and Legolas were already inside clearing it out for them. The gryphons had found a secret entrance on the roof. The two Elves snuck in and killed any Telmarines inside that would be a bother to Glorfindel and Peter.

The two met them inside.

"Glorfindel!" Elrohir cried, running up to them, Legolas in tow. "We cleared them out," he declared glancing back at Legolas, "There's no sign of Moredhel."

The blonde elf nodded, "Very good, go outside and wait with your brother." He and Peter walked past the two until Elrohir protested,

"I want to help find Ada!"

Peter winced. Without missing a beat, Glorfindel spun around, a hard look on his face and said, "Now isn't the time Elrohir – go outside and wait with your brother."

Elrohir nodded, defeated, turned on his heel and walked out of the door. Legolas followed without a word.

* * *

><p>Elrond could almost feel himself dying, his soul leaving Arda soon to find – hopefully – the Hall of Mandos. In his last minutes, he thought of his family, the twins and Arwen, of Rivendell and what now remains, of Glorfindel and Erestor.<p>

If he could change one thing, he wished he was a better father. When Celebrain sailed, he became distant, leaving Glorfindel to help the twins and Arwen – _his_ children – through the tough times. Glorfindel was the glue that held Rivendell together. He saw the distant looks on his children's faces yet he did _nothing_. He took to locking himself in his study – remaining there over night. Eventually they figured out their own father wasn't going to help them through or even talk to them about what happened. Arwen left the valley for Lothlorien. Elladan and Elrohir took to hunting Orc.

He wished he was a better father.

Moredhel's words came back to him, _you're a failure. Better I killed you know. One less burden for the world to carry._

He could feel tears stinging his eyes, threatening to fall. Elrond hated to admit it but Moredhel was absolutely right.

He hoped Glorfindel hadn't gone after him. He did want to disappoint his friend. This was his own fault – not Glorfindel, not Erestor, not the twin's fault. His own. After all that's happened, he deserved to die. Deserved to be killed to repay in blood what has been wrought.

Suddenly, a ray of moonlight flooded into the room from the small window. Light. How long has it been since he's seen it? It was so dark here. When one spends almost half a year in darkness – it becomes all you know.

Darkness. That's all Elrond knew. He didn't know what light looked like anymore. He felt more tears and this time he did cry. It was so beautiful. He struggled to push himself up so he was sitting up, his back resting against the cold wall. On the other side of the cell, Edmund stirred. He nearly forgot him.

Elrond became sad once more. The boy – from what he was told – had a family; three siblings, a mother, and a father who was off fighting in a war. The elf prayed that Moredhel spared the boy once he was gone.

The beam of light faded, much like him now. Darkness crept in and soon it was all he knew.

And even the moon was sad for the dying elf lord.

When Elrond awoke, he was lying in a soft, lush glade full of flowers, fruit trees, and light. The light was so bright that it nearly blinded his now-sensitive eyes. His body shook. Not from cold for it was warm. Not from fear for there was nothing to fear anymore. Slowly he felt strength returned to him.

Slowly, he opened his eyes looking up at a cloudless sky. A sky so blue it hurt.

A soft, melodious voice said, "It's time to wake up, brother."

Filled with wonder, Elrond sat up, surprised to find himself strong once more. His skin was smooth, wounds inflicted in his captivity gone as if they never existed. Color was returned to his previously deathly-pale skin. His body clothed in a glistening white robe.

"You've done well but you're journey lies beyond," A deep powerful voice rang out that made the ground underneath him shook. Before Elrond sat a large Lion who was magnificent, terrifying, and beautiful all at the same time. His eyes were pure gold and seemed to rip into your soul, eyes that knew your thoughts before you did. A mind that knew your actions before you did them. And in that moment, it seemed he was staring into the very eyes of Eru.

His body shook for he was afraid. Even the bravest souls could not stare into His eyes long and not have his knees knocking and his feet shaking in his boots.

"It's time to wake up now."

And darkness over took him.

"_Elrond? Oh no…please, you can't give in now! Stay strong, you'll make it through this!"_

The words were spoken to him yet he did not know who spoke. He felt paralyzed, mind and body wrapped and fear and wonder. He could not open his eyes, couldn't move. Something held him captive. He could feel his body regain its strength. His mind was filled with memories of his family, his home (before it was burnt down), his friends, his wonderful wife, his three children – the twin terrors, Elladan and Elladan, and his beautiful daughter, Arwen. Oh how he missed them, all of them.

He saw the memories flash by and then pass along. He remembered who he was, who he truly was. Not the monster Moredhel created. Oh no, he remembered Lord Elrond of Imladris.

* * *

><p>Edmund could hear people coming. He could hear the sounds of feet running and the clash of steel. Oh Aslan…they were found! The Elves had found them! Or at least he hoped it was the Elves. Who else could it be? Was it the Narnians? No, Edmund had a nagging feeling they were on the Telmarine King's (whoever it was) side. Could it be Aslan? No, nobody had the courage to fight against Aslan. Not even Moredhel would stand a chance against the Lion.<p>

That only left the Elves.

Edmund jumped to his feet and rushed over to Elrond and tried to wake him up. The Elf remained motionless, lying in his own blood. Edmund could feel blood seeping through his clothes, making it uncomfortable. He was still dressed in the school clothing he left England in.

Giving up on Elrond, he went over the door and started pounding on it and screaming, trying to get their rescuers attention. One of the guards opened the little hatch at the top that allowed people to see in and told Edmund to shut up.

That only made Edmund pound and scream harder and louder. He was screaming utter nonsense not really caring if it caught their rescuers attention.

Finally he heard the guards outside groan as they took their dying breaths. Theses rescuers were merciless.

Edmund backed up, waiting for the metal door to swing open. Seconds felt like hours and Edmund was growing impatient. After whoever it was got the lock off the door, it swung open, letting in the light from outside. Two people walked in. They looked like angels with light swirling around them. When his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw the light only swirled around one of them but it was a bright light. Edmund was convinced he _was _an angel.

He took in the newcomer. He had a strong muscular build. His eyes were a bright blue color. He had long golden hair that was pulled back into a braid. His hair was a lot longer than Elrond's (Moredhel probably cut some of it off,) the newcomer's hair came down to the middle of his back. Elrond's was probably three or four inches shorter than that. The last thing Edmund noticed was his ears. They were pointed, like Elrond's.

He was an Elf! The Elves had come!

The second man was probably a few years older than him. He wasn't an Elf but a man like him. He looked oddly familiar…Oh Aslan.

"By the Lion…Peter!"

The boy, who really was Peter, looked at Edmund in shock. "Edmund!" Peter rushed forward and hugged his brother. Edmund winced as Peter hit his shoulder were Moredhel whipped him. The Elf couldn't help but smile.

"Who's the Elf?" He asked his brother.

Instead, the Elf answered, "My name is Glorfindel. But we'll have time for introductions later. Peter, get your brother out of here and tell the Nestaron and Thalion to come in." Peter nodded and led his brother out of the cell, through the hallways and down the stairs and out into the open.

Edmund was bombarded from more hugs from his older sister, Susan. It was then he noticed both Peter and Susan were dressed in Narnian clothes.

Peter addressed two young dark haired Elves, "He's on the second floor, seventh room on the left." The elves nodded, picking up a stretcher and ran into the dungeon. Peter then turned Edmund, "Did you get hurt?"

Edmund shook his head, "Not really, just whipped twice when I tried to stop Moredhel." When a thought occurred that his sibling may not know who that was, he said, "Oh, he's the…"

His brother laughed, "Trust me, we know who he is!"

"Hey, where's Lucy?"

* * *

><p>Glorfindel knelt down on the bloodied stones next to Elrond. <em>Ai Elrond! How I failed you!<em> Carefully, Glorfindel rolled Elrond's body so he was lying on his back. He still felt life flowing through him. Glorfindel smiled. It wasn't too late.

He took this chance to evaluate the damage. Brutal whip marks running up and down his back and chest, some of them were bandaged yet those bandages were torn open from Moredhel's whip. On both of the Elf's arms were two knife wounds, painful but luckily not deep. The only thing that worried Glorfindel was an ugly purple bruise-like wound that he didn't know caused. Other than that – and aside from the mental hell he went through – Elrond seemed alright…hopefully.

The ground around Elrond – and Elrond himself – was covered in blood, most of it was dried. Suddenly, Glorfindel was starting to feel sick. Silently, he stood up and peered outside; still no sign of Moredhel. Something wasn't right here. Surely the dark elf would have known they were here by _now_.

His hand found his way to his sword hilt, gripping it tightly, afraid to let go. An uneasy feeling crept its way into his heart as he stole back inside of the cell. He found his way next to Elrond. He knelt down next him.

Something wasn't right, his mind reminded him. How long has it been since he sent Peter back with his brother? Too long, maybe a minute or two? Nestaron and Thalion should have been here by now. They should have been out of this dungeon by now, with Elrond. Then again…the staircases were narrow; only one person could go up or down them at a time. The stretcher was wider. How can they get it down the stairs without running into a problem? He couldn't carry Elrond either, not unless he walked down the stairs sideways.

Moredhel really thought this through.

Unlike him, who has absolutely no idea what he was doing.

Glorfindel got up, peering out of the cell again. He let out a sigh of relief; there was Nestaron and Thalion coming up the stairs, carrying the stretcher sideways. He looked back at Elrond. His previous thoughts came back to him; _carry Elrond and walk down the stairs sideways._ And that's exactly what he'll do.

He walked back over to Elrond, checking for any hidden wounds that'll have to avoid. Finding none, except for his foot which will have to be checked when they got back to the ruins, Glorfindel picked Elrond gently, carrying him bridal style. The Elf in his care groaned in protest.

"Sorry, mellon-nin…there's nothing else I can do."

Checking if the cost was clear, Glorfindel walked out of the cell and through the hall keeping a steady but careful pace.

"Captain!" Nestaron cried out once they saw him, "It'll be impossible to get Hir Elrond out of here on the stretcher, the passage is too narrow."

Glorfindel nodded, "Yes, I know. I'll be carrying Elrond down the stairs." He walked past the two younger Elves, slowly sidestepping down the staircase. His mood grew bitter as blood seeped through his tunic. Nestaron and Thalion shared a look before following their captain.

The blonde elf had nearly missed a step near the bottom, just catching himself before he (and Elrond) fell. Glorfindel had jolt forward the movement caused Elrond to shift uncomfortably in his arms. The elf groaned in pain.

Glorfindel hissed (he banged his foot against the stone wall) "Sorry Elrond…"

It didn't take them long to reach the bottom, but it took longer than Glorfindel would have preferred – much longer. By the time they were down the stairs, they could have been miles away. He also feared what would be waiting for them when they reached the first floor.

Absolutely nothing.

_Nothing_ was down there. _Nothing_ was waiting for them, ready to kill. The first floor usually littered with Telmarines playing card games or sharing drunken stories, was completely empty. That's not what bothered Glorfindel – Elrohir and Legolas made sure the dungeon was cleared before they went in. What bothered Glorfindel is the fact that Moredhel didn't so up _once_ surely he knew they were here. He knew they were taking his only prisoner.

There was something going on and Glorfindel didn't like it. But he couldn't be bothered by it now; he had to focus on getting Elrond to safety. Only then can he begin to worry about Moredhel.

* * *

><p>Peter rose when he saw three people walk out of the dungeon. His hand found its way to his sword, afraid it might be Moredhel finally making his grand entrance. Somebody was carrying someone. Again his fear rose as his mind created the sick imagine of Moredhel coming to present them Glorfindel's dead body.<p>

In truth, there was nothing to fear.

The camp was barely empty, save for himself, Susan, Edmund and a few other Elves. He had sent the twins back to the ruins; most of the other elves in their small party followed them back.

Edmund rose from the log he was sitting on. Glorfindel and the two Elves that went in to help came into view. The blonde elf was carrying who Peter thought to be Elrond. Stuck in a trance, Edmund walked forward as Elrond was laid on the stretcher.

Glorfindel came over to Peter, "Where is…"

"I sent them back."

A smile came over the Elf's face, "How did you get Elladan and Elrohir to go back? Surely they would want to be here, to walk back with their ad-father." The Elf quickly corrected himself, forgetting Peter didn't know Elvish that well yet.

"I lied, said you wanted them to go back."

"No explanation needed?"

"I was rather convincing, if I say so myself."

Glorfindel's lips twitched into a smile as he rolled eyes and walked back to the stretcher. He watched as the Elf talked to his brother, one hand on his shoulder. Edmund nodded, seemingly agreeing to what Glorfindel was saying, stood up and made room for the elf. The two elves that went in to help Glorfindel lifted the stretcher up, signaling it was time to leave.

Slowly they made their way back through the forest. Still the nagging feeling he felt earlier was eating at Glorfindel. He looked back at the dungeon through narrowed eyes. That was too easy.

Way too easy.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Note:<strong>__ Yay! Elrond and Edmund are freed! But whatever happened to Moredhel? What's that purple bruise-like wound Glorfindel was worried about? So many questions! That will be answered soon, I promise!_

_For now, please review?_

* * *

><p><em>Elvish Translations:<em>

_Ada: _Father

_Mellon-nin: _my friend


	12. A Vision of Sorts

_**Author's Note:**__ The little verse at the beginning at this chapter is from Celtic Woman's "Awakening." Amazing song, go look it up!_

_**Disclaimer:**__ I own nothing…expect for Moredhel._

* * *

><p><strong>Mark of the Beast<strong>

**Chapter 12: A Vision of Sorts**

_Now, when the world is shadowed and dark,_

_Now, when the sky is empty of stars,_

_Now, when the world is wrapped in sleep,_

_In a quiet endless and deep_

_In the silence of the night_

Lucy sat with her head on Aragorn's shoulder. It was nice that the man offered to stay behind with her. It would get awfully lonely if she was here by herself. Of course she wasn't totally alone, only a few elves and her brothers and sister went with Glorfindel to Moredhel's dungeon. They left a day ago and Lucy was starting to get impatient and worry. Shouldn't they be back by now? What if something had happened? What if…they were all dead?

If they were all dead, Moredhel wouldn't hesitate to kill Elrond, which would start a war between Middle-Earth and Narnia. The Elves couldn't withstand a war. Their home was destroyed, their supplies depleted and even with the Old Narnians' help…they'd stand no chance against Caspian's army. Besides, according to Legolas, some of the Elves were already on Moredhel's side. Those Elves were from a forest called Mirkwood. There was another Elven forest, Lothlorien, she thought the name was. From what she learnt from the twins, the Lady of Lothlorien – Galadriel – was their grandmother, Elrond's mother-in-law. Surely she wouldn't be swayed by Moredhel. Perhaps they could go to her for help.

She was brought out her thoughts when Aragorn wrap his arm around her shoulders. She must have been crying because when she looked up at Aragorn, the man wiped her tears away and muttered "It's going to be alright. They're fine…"

Lucy nodded but it didn't make her feel any better. Absentmindedly, Lucy took out her cordial and traced the designs on the glass.

Once again, Aragorn cut through her thoughts, "What does it do?"

Lucy looked up; "Hmm?" he nodded at the cordial. "Oh…It's a healing cordial made from the juice of the fire berries from the mountains of the sun. A single drop could heal any injury within seconds." She looked up at Aragorn, "I don't know how affective it'll be with Elrond…"

Aragorn was honored that the girl even _thought_ of using the cordial on his foster father – even if it doesn't work. "A mighty gift…how did you come across it?"

"Father Christmas…he gave it to me on our first journey through Narnia."

Aragorn nodded. Quite a gift indeed… The cordial was half-filled, probably from using it in the Golden Age, with a red juice. The case itself looked like glass, but Aragorn guessed it was probably made from a stronger material – diamond maybe. He didn't know what kind of injuries the cordial could cure or the injuries Elrond had. He somewhat doubted that it could heal any internal injuries yet he did not know.

He prayed the Elves weren't too late. Six – nearly seven – months is a long time to spend in captivity and just adding all the torture he surely endured made everything worse. He wished he could have gone with Glorfindel and the Elves to save Elrond but he didn't want to leave Lucy alone here.

Beginning to become wary of waiting, Aragorn rested against the tree they were waiting by and closed his eyes for a just minute.

_A blood stained field was laid out before him. Blood covered the ground and splattered against trees. Many of his allies and enemies lay dying and dead before him. His sword was tightly gripped in his hand. The gleaming metal marred by red blood._

_The sounds of weeping quickly reached his ears. He searched for the crier and soon found him, sitting in a clearing, clutching somebody tightly against his chest. The person must have been a relative, or somebody he loved dearly. He did not know the crier. He only knew he was of Elven descent. He wanted to comfort the Elf, yet no matter how far he walked or ran, he couldn't reach him._

_The image changed to a forest. A battle was currently taking place. Suddenly, flames leapt up from the ground, consuming the trees and the thicket and soon the fighters on the field. Just before his view was obscured by flames, he saw an Elven warrior get killed, a knife thrust deep in his chest._

_Once again, the image changed. He stood on a river bank, one that seemed somewhat familiar to him. Suddenly, a cry rang out. It was a young girl's cry…a cry of pain. He turned around to see a bloodied dagger be thrown into the water. A young girl lay bleeding, turning the water red. Looming over her was an Elf…with coal black hair…and eyes to match._

"_Aragorn!"_

_An Elven valley set aflame. Dismal and dark played imagines of death. A Captain pursued by fear and chased into a treacherous land. A flower of death frees it's self and latches on to its first victim. Song birds sing a song of pain and sadness, misery and death, until all is gone and dead is the land._

"_Aragorn!"_

* * *

><p>When Lucy awoke, she could barely make out the growing image of Elves. She knew this was Glorfindel and her siblings, Elladan and Elrohir came back earlier with a few of the other Elves. The two Elves, Thalion and Nestaron, carried the stretcher which was slowly turning the white fabric red. The person they were carrying must have been Elrond, then. Lucy looked at him quickly then looked away, starting to feel sick.<p>

She tried to shake Aragorn awake, but he seemed to be in a heavy sleep, caught in a dream. Sighing, she turned back to the Elves. She scanned the small group. It was good that nobody looked hurt. Lucy felt somewhat shocked, she expected injuries. Just looking at Elrond told her how ruthless Moredhel was. Glorfindel must have been a fantastic warrior then to not even get _one_ nick or scratch.

Something didn't feel right here.

She quickly found her siblings. There was Peter and Edmund and Susan…wait…

Edmund?

"Edmund!" Lucy cried out and dashed off towards the Elves, which woke Aragorn up. By the time he got over the shock of being awoken, Lucy was already half way there. He got up silently and followed her with a smile on his face. He watched as Lucy tackled a young boy, who must have been Edmund. The boy was young, a year or two younger than Susan maybe.

Aragorn went over to Glorfindel, who seemed to be lost in his thoughts. Like Lucy, he was shocked that – other than Elrond – nobody seemed to be hurt. He should be glad yet something went off in the back of his mind that told him something wasn't right.

"Not a scratch, my friend?" Glorfindel looked at Aragorn almost confused before understanding his question. The blonde elf shook his head, a hard look on his face. "How did you get away without a single injury? You've seen how ruthless Moredhel is." The Ranger nodded at the prone figure of his foster father.

Glorfindel walked past Aragorn, despair shone in his blue eyes. His voice was weak, "That's exactly it; Moredhel didn't show up."

* * *

><p>Aragorn followed his Elven friend at a distance. He didn't know where Glorfindel was headed, or what is purpose was. The Ranger doubted the Elf would try something but it was a dark day for everyone. Grief ate at Glorfindel, finally deciding to show itself.<p>

Glorfindel was sitting on a small cliff that rose over a lake. His back was hunched and trembling. Stuck in a trance, Aragorn worked to move one foot in front of the other until he reached his friend. Silently, he sat down next to him. They sat in silence. A cold wind blew against them, making tiny ripples in the lake below. Pushed by curiosity, Aragorn slammed his foot against the side of the cliff, causing pebbles to fall into the lake. The Elf next to him couldn't help but smile. A memory was brought to his mind;

_Elrond threw a stone into the water, it skipped twice across the water before sinking. Little Estel watched his Ada before picking up a flat stone and trying it out for himself. However, his stone didn't skip over the water instead it sunk right into it._

_Estel grew frustrated after his fourth time trying, and collapsed on the rocks, little arms crossed over his chest. The Elf-Lord was sitting by watching his son try and fail several times before giving up. His brother, Elros, has taught him what Estel was trying to copy._

"_Estel." The boy looked up at him. "Want me to teach you how?" The boy nodded his head._

_The Lord of Imladris and his foster son returned that day dripping wet. Estel was in his father's arms. Both Elf and child was grinning from ear to ear._

"It's not your fault, you know." The voice of that very child brought Glorfindel out of his thoughts. The Elf turned to look at him, a questioning look at him. "What has happened, it's not your fault. The attack on Rivendell, you couldn't have known that they were coming. Elrond being captured, you had to get everyone out of Rivendell first. He'll understand that. I doubt he even blames you! You're not to blame, Moredhel is."

Glorfindel sighed and looked back into the water, "It's been seven months, Aragorn. We're lucky he's even alive, never mind the state he's in." He looked back at Aragorn. The look in his eye emphasized what he said next, "He has _every_ right to blame me. I made a promise to protect him. I've failed him, Eärendil, and the Valar."

"No –"

"You don't understand!" Glorfindel yelled, "I made a promise, Aragorn. A promise that said, I'll watch over Elrond, protect him." He laughed a condescending and disbelieving laugh. The Elf looked up and with his arms spread wide up he cried out "Well, look at the great job I'm doing!"

Aragorn, however, remained calm as he said, "You didn't fail anyone, Glorfindel. You can still fix this and right now, Elrond needs you."

* * *

><p>Gandalf the Grey stood over the Elf-Lord he was privileged to call a friend. The state of which his friend was in was mind blowing, not in a good way either. The wizard stood, leaning on his staff, taking in every cut, scratch and scar the Elf had taken. Finally he sighed;<p>

"I've known a lot of Elves in my day, Elrond, none of which are as surprising as you," the Wizard sighed again. His eyes narrowed has he saw the purple bruise on Elrond's shoulder. "Now...how did you get this? Perhaps…your human friend would know?"

He received no answer, as he expected – the Elf might be unconscious for a few days. That's when Elrond's next surprise happened. Gandalf was about to leave when he heard Elrond mutter the words, "Gurth Lhach"

Gandalf spun around in shock. Fear and doubt consuming him as he strode over to the beside, "What did you say?"

"It…it hurts…"

The Wizard sighed, "Yes, yes, I'd expected it too. Now what did you say before?" Elrond remained silent as Gandalf's anger rose, "Elrond Peredhel, I understand you're in pain but you need to tell me what you said!"

Elrond winced, no doubt mistaking the Wizard for Moredhel. He gasped in pain, "It burns… They're coming for me…"

Gandalf stormed out of the room.

* * *

><p>Lucy was sitting around the campfire they set up a few days ago with Edmund, Peter, and Susan. Elladan, Elrohir and Lindir were there as well. Edmund was telling them about what happened. He had changed into the Narnian clothes that Peter smartly remembered to bring from the treasure room. He was a mess. A thin layer of dirt and dust covered his face. His shoulder was bandaged. Apparently he stood up to Moredhel when he was torturing Elrond but the dark elf whipped him instead.<p>

Lucy turned around to see Aragorn and Glorfindel walking back from the forest. It was clear that the Elf was crying. She didn't blame him. It was obvious that Glorfindel loved Elrond. He must have thought he failed his Lord in some way. Moredhel shattered Glorfindel's heart. Aragorn must have been trying to pick the pieces up.

Aragorn and Glorfindel joined them. The Elf didn't want to, claiming he wanted to be alone (that's must be why he went to the forest,) but Aragorn made him.

It was awhile before Lucy dared to speak, "Do you think…Elrond is going to be alright?"

Edmund shook his head, "I don't know Lucy… His torture was great. I'm surprised he didn't die then. I don't think he'll last much longer." It must have been painful for Elladan and Elrohir to hear their father might die. Lucy felt sorry for them.

Glorfindel looked up at Edmund, tears glistening in his eyes, "What did Moredhel do to him? When I was there, there was a lot of blood for a simple whipping – even for that amount of time."

The boy shrugged, "Not sure, I think…he might have had magic, but I'm not sure."

Aragorn shifted uncomfortably in his seat before saying, "Just before you came back to the ruins with Elrond, I was presented with a vision." Oh, so that was why Lucy couldn't wake him up when the Elves came. "Three people were killed, two Elves and a human. The land was being consumed with flames. And at the end, the Lady of Lothlorien had said; _An Elven valley set aflame. Dismal and dark played imagines of death. A Captain pursued by fear and chased into a treacherous land. A flower of death frees it's self and latches on to its first victim. Song birds sing a song of pain and sadness, misery and death, until all is gone and dead is the land._"

Everyone sat in shocked silence. It must have been a full five minutes – but it felt _much_ longer – before Glorfindel broke the silence, "Who were the people that were killed? Can you put a name to them?"

Aragorn looked up at Elladan and Elrohir before looking down. He shook his head, "I don't know."

There was something Aragorn was hiding from them.

Before anyone could continue, Gandalf come storming towards them. Lucy was still somewhat scared of the wizard and found herself inching closer to Lindir.

"I fear we have a much bigger problem on our hands, Lord Glorfindel." The Wizard said when he reached them, leaning forward on his staff.

All color retreated from Glorfindel's face. His eyes were lost in hopelessness. Another problem isn't what he needed. In a breathless voice, Glorfindel asked, "What is it…?"

"Elrond has been poisoned, by a Gurth Lhach."

That must have been too much for the Elf because in that very moment, Glorfindel fainted.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Note:<strong>__ Eck, shorter than I wished but still good, if I get a say in things. I hope you remember what a Gurth Lhach is, if not check back in…I believe Chapter 6. Please review!_

_At first, I wasn't going to add Aragorn's vision. At first, it was going to be Elrond's vision but I changed it because I didn't know how to put it in this chapter. That's most likely the only way Galadriel will be in this story. Why? Because I'm afraid of her. I don't know why, but I am. It's like I don't like her, I do. I don't like Arwen – that's why I stuck her in Lothlorien so I wouldn't have to deal with her. _

_Elvish Translation:_

_Gurth Lhach: _Death Flame

_Moredhel:_ Dark Elf.


	13. Finding Allies

_**Author's note:** I was feeling rather angry when I wrote this. Be prepared for crying elves, and angst. I did the math; this story takes place in 2968 of the Third Age (the year of Frodo's birth.) From the year the Elves left Middle-Earth that is 53 years. Aragorn would be 30. Elrond would be 6,467 years old and the only reason I know this is because I used him to figure all this out._

_**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, besides Moredhel. If anyone wants to borrow him, feel free! PM me first though, so I know you're using him…and I can read your story! I don't care if he returns in good health or not ^-^_

* * *

><p><strong>Mark of the Beast<strong>

**Chapter Thirteen: Finding Allies**

_Falathiel watched as her supposed-to-be-sleeping son, Glorfindel, ran into the room with a red blanket tied around his neck acting as a cape. He ran into his father's, Meldiron, open arms. Meldiron lifted him up high. The child wrapped his small arms around his father's neck and laid his head on his shoulder._

"_Shouldn't you be in bed, ion?" Meldiron asked._

_A small smile came over the child's face. "I couldn't sleep, Ada!"_

"_Couldn't sleep, you say? Well we'll just have to fix that won't we?" Glorfindel nodded excitedly. He loved hearing his father's stories – whether or not they were real or made up, Glorfindel didn't care. Meldiron carried Glorfindel out of the room and into his bedroom. He sat the elfling on the bed and tied the blanket off from around his neck. Glorfindel protested by holding on to the edge of the blanket._

"_No, ion," Meldiron said calmly, "We wouldn't want the blanket to strangle you in your sleep." __Glorfindel crossed his arms over his chest and bowed his head in anger. "We wouldn't want to lose you, ion. That would make me and your Naneth very sad."_

_Glorfindel__'s head came up, his eyes wide in shock. He cried out, "Ada no sad!"_

"_Don't worry, ion – Ada no sad."_

"_Story time, Ada?"_

_Meldiron lay down on the bed and Glorfindel cuddled up next to him. Meldiron wrapped his arm around his son's shoulder. Glorfindel felt sleepy already. __"__Every land has its own mysteries and legends but one of my favorites comes from the land of Narnia._

"_One day, a woodsman __from the village of Lantern Waste was traveling the Western Wood. The man heard a young girl singing. He followed the sound until he saw the willow maiden, a Dryad. As soon as he laid his eyes on her, he fell in love yet the girl denied him. He offered gifts. The man wanted her as his wife. You must understand one thing before I continue, my son. If you cut down a Dryad's tree, it will die."_

_Glorfindel looked up at his father, "Die, Ada?" Meldiron nodded sadly._

"_The man brought an axe the next day to the tree, thinking that the girl was trapped inside of the willow and that's why she couldn't be with him. The girl followed him out of the forest, far from her ancient tree where she was born. She soon collapsed to the ground and faded into a magnificent white flower. It is said that if you travel to Narnia, you can see find the flower because its stem is strong and cannot be cut."_

_Glorfindel yawn, "I want to see the flower…"_

_Meldiron smiled, "I'm sorry son, the Barricade between Narnia and Valinor has been lost for quite awhile now."_

"_I'm going to find the Barricade, Ada. I'm going to find Narnia and the flower."_

_Meldiron stroked his son's golden hair, "Of course you will, ion, because you'll grow up to be a strong and powerful warrior."_

_Glorfindel sat up in excitement. He looked at his father with wide excited eyes. "Like the Narnians in the book I am reading!" The book was resting on side table next to the bed. Glorfindel reached over to grab the book, his hand just barely made it. Meldiron caught his son before he could get too far._

_His father laid his son down again, covering the blanket over his small body. He got up to leave and Glorfindel was asleep in seconds._

"_I love you, ion-nin."_

"_Love you too, Ada." Glorfindel murmured in his sleep._

* * *

><p>They managed to get Glorfindel awake rather quickly. When he did awake, the Elf asked what had happened. Lucy guessed it was his first time fainting; it was a very scary experience for somebody going through it for the first time. Aragorn made sure he had a protective arm around the Elf's shoulder before Gandalf repeated what he said. When the Elf fainted, the Wizard's expression went from angry to amused in a matter of seconds.<p>

The oldest Pevensie noticed all color retreated from Elrohir's face, and his twin brother had an arm wrapped around his shoulders. Peter, not have met Elrond yet was still worried, asked, "What does this poison do?"

"It's more like a tracker, really. I believe you've seen one before, haven't you Lucy?" The Wizard nodded at the girl.

Lucy gave a small nod, "Up-close…"

Gandalf shook his head, "Such vile creatures…"

Aragorn chimed in, "You can't blame them really. It was Moredhel who made them. The Elves he used were just his unfortunate victims."

"Nevertheless, a sorry state to be in, trapped inside a monster's body, waiting for death to release you…" Aragorn cleared his voice, interrupted the Wizard from his ramblings. He looked at Aragorn, who gave a pointed look at Peter. "Oh…right…well, the Guruth Lhach have needles laced with poison embedded in their hands. If one was to come in contact with the poison, the Guruth Lhach's master will know where the person they poisoned is every minute of every day."

Peter couldn't place it, but it seemed like Gandalf was beating around the bush trying to avoid telling them the full story. There was obvious something he wasn't telling them; something important. And Peter was going to what out what it was.

Glorfindel nodded his head, "So that's why Moredhel didn't bother to show himself at the dungeon. It didn't matter; he'd know where Elrond is anyway."

Susan asked, "That means he can show up here with an army at any moment," she looked over at Glorfindel, "I think it's best if we leave, go back to Middle-Earth."

Suddenly getting an idea, Lucy shouted, "We could go to Lothlorien!"

The Elves, Aragorn and Gandalf smiled at her child-like outburst. Glorfindel shook his head, "It would take too long to get there, and Elrond is in no condition for travel. Besides, it wouldn't matter where went, Moredhel would be able to track us. I'd rather keep this war in Narnia anyway."

A voice made himself known. They, who had too, turned around and saw Nestaron standing there, "Excuse me for eavesdropping Captain, but if it is to come to war, we wouldn't survive very long – our numbers are too few. I suggest we send out riders to Lothlorien, ask for aid."

Peter and Susan shared a look. Having been in this situation before, they knew what Nestaron was thinking. The Elf had a good mind when it came to war. Finally Susan said, "He has a point and it's not that bad of an idea. From what I heard, the Lady of Lothlorien wouldn't refuse to help."

Glorfindel sighed in defeat. He remained silent, watching the fire with tired eyes. He knew they were hopeless. Their numbers were too few. He knew that they could not go to Mirkwood for help. King Thranduil was already on Moredhel's side. He still did not trust that Legolas came here on his own accord. He thought there was a slight chance that Legolas came because Thranduil sent him to spy on them. Perhaps Lothlorien was their only chance of surviving this.

"I think you're right." He stood up turning to Nestaron, he side, "Gather the Elves – and Narnians. There's something I wish to address." He left without a word, walking off into another section of the ruins.

* * *

><p><strong>Meanwhile…<strong>

"_And what of you Elros, what do you chose?"_

_It only took one word to shatter Elrond Peredhel's heart; "Mortality." This was it; his brother – his _twin, _of all people – was leaving him._

"_So it is done."_

Elrond fought for that awful memory to leave his mind, but it was too strong. It kept coming back. He couldn't stop it. He knew what Moredhel was doing. It was because of the poison that now flowed freely through his body – slowly destroying him.

"_Elrond!__ Can we talk about this? Why won't you talk to me?" It was an innocent question yet it only resulted in infuriating Elrond further. He spun around to face his twin. Anger and fear shone brightly in his narrowed grey eyes._

"_What is there to talk about?" His voice grew somewhat softer, "You chose mortality – I get it Elros."_

A cruel voice entered his mind; '_You would lie to your own brother? Hmm…I didn't expect that from you Elrond.'_ He almost could see his wicked smirk as another heart wrenching memory was pulled forward without his consent.

_He couldn't do it. He couldn't heal his own wife. Elrond, lord of Imladris, the great healer, has failed. He felt his heart shatter in grief. Yes, he healed her physical wounds, but nothing could be done for what she went through._

_Deep down in his heart, he was mourning. On the outside, he could not. He knew what people thought of him. He knew the thoughts of his own children. They thought him made of stone, emotionless. He saw the accusation in their eyes. Elrohir and Elladan took to hunting Orc, Arwen retreated so far into herself that she had to leave Imladris. Still, he was made of stone._

_He did care how could he not? Yet he didn't know how to grieve. All his life the people he loved left him. Eärendil, Elwing, Elros…everyone he cared about left him. So he grew up cold and distant, learning to live past love. He expected people to leave him, waited for the moment when they would leave._

_The accusations were the worst, however. When they remained unspoken was one thing, yet when somebody spoke of his way of dealing with grief it tore at his heart._

_One night, he remembered walking through the halls of the Last Homely House. He thought everyone was asleep, yet his sons remained awake. He had heard Elrohir say, "…It's Ada's fault she left." The Lord hurried away. He however didn't hear what Elrohir was truly saying;_

"_It's not like we can go around saying 'its Ada's fault she left' like everyone else is. It's not right. Besides it's not his fault at all, he did what he could. He _is_ sad, 'Dan. I've seen him."_

_Just when everyone thought the Lord of Imladris was completely heartless, Elrond collapsed from grief._

Consumed in nightmares, Elrond didn't hear the door open. His "Go away," was not directed at the ranger who entered the room but instead at Moredhel, who he wished would leave his mind.

And Elrond felt another drug running through his body, pulling deeper into unconsciousness.

* * *

><p>Aragorn stood up, shoving his hands in his pockets. He looked down curiously when his hand hit a small metal object. Pulling the object out of his pocket, his eyes laid upon the familiar sight of Vilya, Elrond's ring. With everything happening at once, he must have forgotten to give it back to his father.<p>

"Are you coming, Aragorn?" The Ranger looked up to see that Peter and Lucy were waiting for him.

He smiled and nodded, "Yes, I just…have to do something before." He closed his hand around the ring. Peter and Lucy gave each other a curious look before following the direction Glorfindel went while Aragorn headed in the opposite direction.

Slowly, not wanting to wake the Elf, Aragorn pushed open the door to the room that they were keeping Elrond in for now. Glorfindel kept the door open during the day and locked during the night. Edmund had told them that night fits were a common occurrence when they were in the dungeon. So why would they stop now? Aragorn wasn't sure the Elf even knew he was out of that hell. He hasn't awoken once since they saved him. That meant that Moredhel's hold on Elrond was strong, that worried Aragorn. He knew his father was strong, but it seems like Moredhel had broken him.

Aragorn walked forward and stopped at the side of the bed. Elrond lay inhumanly still – even for an Elf. His hands were clenched around the blanket. Sweat covered his forehead. He looked calm but Aragorn knew better. The Elf was trapped in nightmares.

He swore right then and there, when he gets his hands on Moredhel, he will _not_ be merciful.

The man unclenched one of Elrond's hands and closed it again, Vilya closed within it. "I believe this belongs to you."

It was then Aragorn noticed how lifeless Elrond seemed. Quickly, he checked for a pulse. It took him a minute, but he found one. It was weak though, really weak. Aragorn laid an ear against Elrond's chest. His heartbeat was weak and erratic. Elrond seemed all together lifeless.

Aragorn looked at the side table next to the bed; there was a goblet that wasn't there before. He grabbed the cup. A dark red liquid filled half of the cup. He tipped the cup over, red liquid dripping into his gloved hands. The liquid had a foul smell that Aragorn couldn't place. A flower petal peeled off the side of the cup and landed on Aragorn hand. He narrowed his eyes and put the goblet down on the table. He held the petal up to the light. Dark red veins were spread out in the petal. He's never seen a flower quite like this before.

Putting the petal in his pocket, Aragorn looked back at Elrond, and then left the room.

* * *

><p>Peter caught up to Gandalf awhile later. The boy noticed he was becoming less and less afraid around the Wizard. Why? Peter wasn't sure. Maybe it was because Gandalf reminded him more of Aslan than of Jadis.<p>

Aslan.

Speaking of the Lion, where was He? How could He let something like this happen to Narnia? Yes, he understood that things never happened the same way twice but surely there was _something_ the Lion could do? Moredhel was slowly destroying Narnia! War would come soon. There was no denying it. Everyone knew that it was coming. With this war, the downfall of Narnia would come in its midst.

Maybe that's what the land needed – a complete destruction of the land so its inhabitants could rebuild and make a better Narnia. That is, if they didn't all kill each other first.

Peter shook these thoughts out of his head when he reached the Wizard. "Gandalf."

The Wizard turned around, a questioning look on his face. It disappeared when he saw Peter. "Ahh, yes Peter?"

"I know there's something you're not telling us. It's something important – about Elrond. What is it?"

Gandalf sighed. He knew one of them would figure it out. He was pleasantly surprised that is was Peter. Also he shocked that Glorfindel or Aragorn wasn't able to figure out his charade. "You surely remember what a Guruth Lhach looks like, don't you?" Peter nodded, the questioning look never leaving his face. "Well, if we don't find a cure to this poison – and soon – Elrond will slowly begin to turn into one."

Peter's eyes grew wide in shock. That was awful! Moredhel truly was a sick person to wish a fate like _that _one somebody. Once again, Peter was wondering what Elrond could have done to deserve this.

"It's a painful process indeed," Gandalf continued, "I highly doubt it will get that far with Elrond. He'll be begging for death before the process is half over. A wish that will sadly not be granted, Glorfindel could never kill his Lord and friend. I just hope Elrond doesn't try something…"

"You still need to tell this to Glorfindel. He has a right to know."

Gandalf sighed, "I suppose you are right, my friend. Come; let us get to Glorfindel's meeting before we are late."

* * *

><p>Susan decided that Glorfindel wasn't as stupid as he seemed. Apparently, there was an underground cavern underneath the ruins. She wondered why they didn't just stay there instead above ground in the ruins. She later learned why – because Elves hate being stuck in darkness for an extended amount of time. She wondered how Elrond could survive in a dark cell for nearly seven months.<p>

The cavern consisted of a main hall, and many corridors that lead to private and storage rooms and armories. The walls of the corridors and rooms were lined with lit torches. Fire lined the sides of the hall. The only thing that stopped it from consuming the room in fire was a tall wooden box that contains it. In the hall, there was a large wooden oak table with gold designs running the length of it. In times of war, a map would have been draped over the table.

All the fire was almost blinding but the Elves seemed to like it. It kept the dark away.

Soon nearly everyone was in the hall. A few of the Rangers were still outside, guarding the ruins. Many young and female elves sat on rocks and chairs. Narnians stood near the walls and exits, knowing that this meeting was more for the Elves than they.

She stood with Lucy and Edmund. Aragorn stood on the other side of the room with a ranger. The two were talking quietly. Elladan stood with his arms crossed over his chest. Elrohir sat at the table. He looked drained, the events of the day definitely taxing on his nerves. Peter stood near Glorfindel with Gandalf. Susan couldn't find either Lindir or Erestor.

It wasn't long before Glorfindel stood and began to speak, "Too long we have hidden from this darkness. Too long we have sat by and watched evil tear us away from our loved ones. I once thought this would be easier somehow. That we would save Lord Elrond and that's the end of it." Sorrow washed over Glorfindel, "…I was wrong. Moredhel is cunning, I'll give him that. He poisoned our Lord. Do not fret; the poison is nothing but a tracker." Susan glanced over at Peter, who gave Gandalf a painful look, "However that means Moredhel knows where we are now. If this was to come to war…we would not survive. Our numbers are too thin – even with the selfless aid of the Narnians."

"We are trapped then!" an Elf cried out, "Hir Elrond is in no condition for travel. We shall die here!" A couple of the younger Elves began to cry and held on their mothers for comfort.

"_Sedho,_" Glorfindel gave an angry look in the direction the shout came from. "I shall not let Moredhel win. I am prepared to fight to the death for my lord. I would expect you would do the same…"

The ranger that Aragorn was speaking to stepped forward, "Lord Glorfindel, send riders to Lothlorien. The Lady Galadriel will not hesitate to help Lord Elrond and the Elves of Rivendell."

"Two or three riders should go," Aragorn spoke up, "the route from Narnia to Lothlorien is very hazardous and one that a single rider should not travel alone. It should be someone Moredhel doesn't know. That way he wouldn't grow suspicious."

Glorfindel nodded. It was done then. Riders would be sent to Lothlorien. He hoped the Lady would be willing to help. Only who shall he send...?

"I will go."

Every head turned to the owner of the voice. Many were shocked when their eyes lay upon small Lucy Pevensie. Could he send Lucy? No…he couldn't, Peter would personally murder him for putting his youngest sister into harm's way. Everyone heard Aragorn say the route to Lothlorien was hazardous. Glorfindel looked back at Peter. The boy was glaring at him. He did not need to hear what he was thinking.

"_Make the right decision."_

The right decision was to send Lucy.

Lucy, sense Glorfindel's strife, spoke up, "I want to end this as much as you do, Glorfindel – as much as anyone does. Aragorn said that whoever goes should be someone Moredhel doesn't know. He doesn't know me. He would suspect a little girl traveling across the world to gather Elven troops. I have made a journey such like this one before – in Narnia during the Golden Age."

A centaur's deep voice made itself know, "I can vouch for her, as have I accompanied Queen Lucy on these journeys." Lucy smiled up at the centaur then looked back at Glorfindel.

Glorfindel shut his eyes and took a deep breath, thinking '_Peter is going to kill me._' "Very well, Lucy, Queen of Narnia. Who shall accompany her?"

A ranger, the ranger Aragorn was speaking to before, stepped forward. "I shall." Aragorn's arms suddenly dropped to his sides. The ranger turned to look at the man with a look that side, '_You belong here, with your father._'

"Very well, Lucy and the Ranger Halbarad shall make the journey to Lothlorien."

Aragorn felt sad. He was just starting to form a friendship with Lucy and now he'll lose two of his closest friends.

Susan turned her head enough to see an Elf leave the hall.

* * *

><p>This was his fault – all of it.<p>

He should have seen it sooner; the attack on Imladris, Lord Elrond's capture. It was all because of him. He was the only one who hasn't at least gone in to look at him, see what was done. That's because he couldn't. He hasn't eaten, slept, or gone to see his Lord. The very person who gave him a home – a second chance at life – and he made it seemed like he didn't care.

It'll be better this way. Of course it would. He could leave, right now. Nobody was with him. Surely nobody was looking for him. Why would they? Why would they care if he left? He wasn't a warrior. He couldn't use a sword if his life depended on it. A bow was out of the question completely.

If this did come down to a war…he'd be useless.

Better if he just got lost now, right?

It's decided then, he'll leave but he will till Glorfindel the truth first. He of all people deserved to know. Suddenly, He felt bad for all the times he was distant towards the blonde Elf – towards everyone in Rivendell actually. They didn't know who Moredhel really was, not like he knew him. So he'll tell Glorfindel the truth, and then he'll leave. Nobody would miss him. Glorfindel would probably tell him to leave anyway.

Suddenly a sinking feeling entered his heart, he knew it all this time yet it hasn't hit him before like this. He's unloved, even in Rivendell. Nobody would care if he suddenly disappeared. Nobody would miss him. They didn't care. Sure, they acted like they cared yet he knew they were all faking. Who knows if they wouldn't rejoice in him leaving?

Anger seemed its way into heart. Then again…why did Glorfindel deserve to know? What has the Elf ever done for him? Why should he repay him for nothing?

Just as he got up to leave, he heard somebody cry out, "Erestor!" He sighed; of course somebody would find him sooner or later. Glorfindel reached him within seconds. He was panting, "'Restor, I've been looking for… Have you been crying?" That was the first time he was aware his face was wet with tears. He quickly turned away from the blonde elf, wiping the tears from his face. "What's wrong?"

Glorfindel put his hand on Erestor's shoulder. The Elf only shrugged it off and took a step closer to lake; closer than Glorfindel would have preferred. He knew the Elf was distant; always keep everyone at arm's length – sometimes further. He didn't think Erestor was suicidal, but these were trying times for everyone and grief could cause people to do crazy things.

"Nothing's wrong."

"You're lying." There was no hint Glorfindel had said it in a joking manner, for he did not. He knew something was bothering Erestor and he needed to know what.

The Elf sunk down to the ground, sitting with his legs crossed, head slightly bowed. "You would not understand."

Glorfindel pushed further, "Then help me understand! Erestor, something is bothering you, and I wish to help." Erestor remained silent. "Erestor?" Still the elf remained silent. With every passing second Glorfindel's anger grew. The blonde elf growled, "Erestor answer me!"

Erestor began trembling but Glorfindel's anger remained. He sighed in exasperation, "Fine! Don't tell me, go get yourself killed – see if I care!"

"Glorfindel…"

"You know, I find it funny that you haven't even _checked_ to see how Elrond was."

"Glorfindel…"

"He's your Lord, Erestor! The least you could do is show him you care!"

Erestor actually began crying this time. Glorfindel's words were true. He did care yet…he couldn't…no, he didn't know how to show him that he did indeed care. "Please…Glorfindel, you don't understand."

Glorfindel stopped his ranting and noticed that Erestor had been calling him by his name, not Lord Glorfindel. That almost – no, that _never_ happened. "I want to understand, Erestor." He got down on his knees, "Please, won't you tell me? I only wish to help you."

The trembling began again, "Moredhel…" Glorfindel suddenly hated himself for the way he was treating Erestor before when he heard the words he said next;

"Moredhel is my father…"

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Note:<strong>__ Reviews are very welcomed!_

_Can I just say I had SO much fun writing Glorfindel as an elfling? I was smiling and laughing entire time I was writing it. Remember Glorfindel's father's story about the Dryad and the White Flower – it comes up later on. Also, I couldn't find what his parents' names are so I named them myself. :\ So I decided to put the Lothlorien Elves in this story – it didn't seem right without them. Originally I was going to make Nestaron go with Lucy to Lothlorien but it seemed better if I made a canon character go with her. Also! Remember the flower petal and red liquid Aragorn finds in Elrond's room – very important._

* * *

><p><em>Elvish Translations:<em>

_Ada - _Father

_Ion - _Son

_Ion-nin - my son_

_Hir -_ Lord

_Moredhel_ - Dark elf

_Peredhel -_ half-elf

_Sedho - _Quiet


	14. The Melody is Over

_**Author's Note:**__ When I planned this story, I imagined three important friendships forming; Elrond and Edmund, Peter and Glorfindel, Lucy and Elrohir (and Elladan.) There's going to be chapters on their forming friendships (not all at once.) This is Elrond and Edmund's._

_**Disclaimer:** I tell you again, I own nothing!_

_**Warning!** Attempted Suicide!_

* * *

><p><strong>Mark of the Beast<strong>

**Chapter Fourteen: The Melody is Over**

A quite calmness came over the ruins. Edmund knew it was only temporary, but it was nice. He knew he was safe, but he didn't feel it at all. Moredhel's hold over Elrond was strong and as long as his Elf-friend was hurting, he would to. As long as Elrond isn't safe, neither is he.

He sat unmoving at Elrond's bedside. He was startled at every slightest movement the Elf made and jumped at the smallest sounds he made.

He wished nothing more for his friend to get better quickly. Edmund sighed, "I'm sorry Elrond. This is my fault. I didn't protect you well enough. This should have happened to me, not you. I don't care what you believe. You're fair and kind. He's the monster. Please, keep fighting him."

What Edmund didn't know is that Elrond was actually awake – and has been for a couple of hours – and had heard everyone Edmund had said. The Elf rolled over on to his side, with his back facing Edmund.

"Elrond?"

The Elf began trembling. "Glorfindel should have never come for me. He shouldn't have risked his life for me. All I ever do is cause trouble. I'm not worth it."

"What are you talking about? They came all this way because they love you!" Edmund froze, very much aware of what he was saying and about to say, ''_Don't you see how selfish you're being?__'__ Honestly, Edmund! How would saying that help Elrond at all?' How stupid can you get?'_ "What I mean is-"

"I get it." Elrond had stopped trembling and his voice became cold and distant. The just king suddenly hated himself – even more than he already did. "I'm acting foolishly. I get it. I am nothing but a selfish, worthless person and the world will be better off if I was dead."

"No. That is not at all what I am saying." Edmund felt like crying. A few tears did escape his closed eyes. He just broke all the promises he made to himself. He was doing a truly awful job at protecting his friend. _Hmph, some friend, the Elf has just been nearly tortured to death and you call him out because he's a little depressed. You're the selfish one, not him._

Edmund wasn't aware of the fact that he was crying. Not until Elrond himself told him to cut it out. That only got Edmund to stop. Kind of ironic, just yesterday Glorfindel was in here crying his eyes out and Elrond didn't do a thing. Somebody who has been by Elrond's side for _years_ and the Elf doesn't even blink when he starts crying. Well, there was always the fact that they drugged the Elf so the pain became more bearable.

The boy just stared at the Elf with a confused expression on his face. It wasn't long before Elrond was uncomfortable, "What?"

"It's ironic, that's all. You tell me to stop crying but just yesterday Glorfindel was in here crying and I swore it looked like you were glaring at him."

Elrond didn't say anything for a minute. Then he looked at Edmund and asked, "That was Glorfindel? I…swore I thought it was…Moredhel."

Edmund couldn't help it, he began to laugh. He saw Elrond crack the _smallest_ of smiles but it was still a smile. It was progress. And that's all that mattered to Edmund right now. Old promises be damned. He could always make new ones. He was going to make sure Elrond made it through this alright.

All foolishness aside, Elrond suddenly became serious. "There will be a battle. Moredhel wants me back and he'll do anything to make sure he does."

Edmund nodded, not at all startled at the change of pace, "I'm sure everyone here knows that. Glorfindel's been pushing people harder and harder every day in training."

Another smile; Edmund felt hope stirring in his heart, "He's like that," Elrond said, "Once every full moon, Glorfindel would push them to hard and half the regiment would get injured, making my job only harder."

Ah, so that answers a few questions Edmund's been asking himself. He never did see Elrond as a warrior. That's because he wasn't, well not anymore. He was oh only a couple thousand years ago but not anymore. Not after his king fell at the slopes of some place called Mount Doom and Rivendell (Imladris to the Elves) was established. He was a healer – makes sense, he got along with Lucy – and a scholar. While Glorfindel found strength in arms, Elrond found it in scholarly.

"Moredhel will be in that battle…"

Slowly, Edmund saw what Elrond was getting at. It somewhat scared him. "You want to be the one that kills him."

Hesitantly, Elrond shook his head, "I just want him dead. I don't care who does it."

"Elrond…it's ok if you do want to kill him. I understand that. He's hurt you in more way I can imagine. It's normal that you want to kill him, to get revenge on him for what he did. It's…normal…" Edmund saw a change in Elrond as he was speaking. The elf sunk further down in the bed, arms wrapped around his stomach as if he was in pain, unshed tears made his eye shine. _Oh Elrond…what exactly did Moredhel do to you?_

He knew that there were six months in-between Elrond's capture and his arrival. Moredhel could have done _anything._ That single thought disgusted Edmund because just by the Elf's reaction, Edmund knew something must have been done.

_Aslan…please help Elrond._

"I'm tired."

Edmund nearly groaned. 'I'm tired' meant Moredhel managed to get his hold on Elrond back. He hated it. Edmund liked those rare moments when Elrond was sane enough to talk to him. If it wasn't for Moredhel, they probably would have become quick friends but now it was taking forever because of the dark elf and Edmund hated him for it.

"You should sleep…" Edmund said.

Elrond shook his head. "It wouldn't matter. I'm struck by nightmare every time I fall asleep. Do you… do you think that will stop… once he's dead?"

Edmund understood where this was coming from. When they returned from Narnia, he was struck with nightmares of Jadis and what happened. Of what it would be like if he returned to Jadis with Lucy, Peter, and Susan. He saw himself sometimes as King of Narnia - but Jadis got him there, not Aslan. He saw himself ruling a land captured in snow.

"I'm going to fight him."

Elrond had a heart of courage. If it was anyone else in this position – he was sorry to say it, but even Glorfindel – they would have tried to kill themselves already. But this Elf, Elrond, decided he was strong enough to fight. And he was – Edmund knew he was. He had faith in his Elven friend. He promised to stick by Elrond to no matter what end. If the Elf started to stray from the rode he was already on, Edmund promise to bring back.

He promised to fight alongside Elrond, no matter how hard the fight might be.

That's what Elrond needed the most – a friend that would stick by him, help him. No remedy to any poison is any good if the person who needs it feels alone in this big world.

There were some days were they would lose Elrond completely. Those days, he would go completely insane and do things he desperately regrets later on. He isn't 'Elrond' when this happens. Moredhel takes complete control over him.

There was one day that caused Elrond to not be able to even _look_ at Lucy for three days. Moredhel (because it wasn't Elrond at the time) said some truly awful things but Lucy stood her ground, knowing that what was said was untrue and not meant at all.

The worse part was Elrond was totally aware this was happening yet he could not stop it.

Another day, when Moredhel took over, he punched Glorfindel in the eye giving the blonde elf a black eye for two days. Elrond, when he broke through, cried for two hours straight and wasn't able to face Glorfindel at all. Before he fell asleep, the elf even tied his wrist to the bed to make sure he didn't do anything in his sleep.

Those nights were the hardest on Edmund. It was painful to watch. He was there when Peter was trying to convince Lucy what was said to her was untrue.

Night time was the worst. It was when the sky would turn dark, and remind them both of the darkness of the cell they were put in as Moredhel's slaves. Elrond also remembered everything he has said or done since they were saved. Edmund remembered the painful nights of watching Elrond be tortured and bandages only for them to be reopened again. Sleep was a privilege the both didn't know anymore. Nightmares haunted both of their dreams.

Edmund's nightmares mostly revolve around Elrond and would happen if they weren't saved. Would Elrond be killed? If he did get killed, what would happen to him? There was one sick night where he dreamt Elrond was dead – killed by Moredhel. The dark elf was sitting on a throne and Edmund stood next to him. The dead bodies of his siblings, Elrond, Glorfindel, the twins, were laid out in a bloody battlefield burning.

At the end of the dream, a dark voice entered his head asking him; _is this not what you wanted in the first place, to be a king?_

But he wasn't a king in that dream, not the king he wanted to be. He didn't want his friends to die. He didn't want to be a tyrant…like Moredhel. Never…will he ever stand alongside Moredhel while Elrond was dead. That nightmare will _not_ come true. It will stay what it is – a nightmare.

"Elrond," the elf looked at him, "get some sleep. You're going to need it."

Edmund left the room, closing the door softly behind him. As soon as the boy was gone, the elf-lord's shields fell down and he felt himself crumbling. He began to cry.

In the morning, it was so much easier. In the morning, he could deal with the pain. In the morning, he had people to help him through.

When the night came, and the monsters came out, he had no one. Everyone was gone, like it should be. He has caused enough pain already. Why must he cause more? He didn't care what everyone else said or thought. He _was_ a monster. He was a monster that caused nothing but pain.

Edmund was the only one who could break the monster's chains. Others have tried, failed, and abandoned him. Oh no, he wasn't bitter about it. He deserved it. Better if he left now right? That way he wouldn't cause anymore pain.

He sighed and reached over to open the drawer to get the rope he used to bound his wrist to the bed when his hand touch the edge of a knife. A great desire suddenly burned in Elrond's heart. The blade had nicked the edge of his finger. He withdrew his hand and started a red liquid as it dripped on to the white sheets, staining it red. He took the knife out of the drawer. It was a small dagger with a red handle. The pommel was gold and in the shape of a lion.

_Just one more drop – that will ease your suffering._ A cold voice entered his mind. He knew it was right. He could end this easily. He longed to end it – desperately. He took the knife and dragged it an inch under his wrist.

And with that, Elrond knew no more.

* * *

><p>"You figured all that out in a minute?" Peter asked honestly amazed in his little brother.<p>

"I was there for some of this. I know what I'm talking about. It was pretty easy to figure out." Edmund paused, "I'm worried about him Peter. What if he doesn't make it?"

Peter sighed. He expected this sooner or later – he hoped for later. "He will, Edmund. He's strong. And he has people like you and Glorfindel to help him through this."

Instead of going to bed, like he told Elrond to, Edmund went to go talk to his brother, sister, and Glorfindel. He had everything figured out in his head. He figured out why Elrond was so distant towards everyone expect for him. He was being to understand why Elrond got so scared when Moredhel would come for a "visit". It wasn't the physical pain that bothered him. It was all the emotional memories that came along with it. The Just King has seen it a lot with people in Narnia who were assaulted. Eventually, he put two and two together with Elrond.

"That's awful…" Susan said truly appalled at the monster that tortured Elrond.

Glorfindel suddenly got an idea. "He doesn't want sympathy. That's why he's pushing us away."

Peter cut in, "He's pushing us away because he doesn't trust anyone but Edmund."

"While that may be true," Glorfindel continued, "he knows that none of us would actually try to hurt him. He's afraid that _he_ will somehow hurt _us_ that's why it seems like he wants nothing to do with us."

The four of them sat around a campfire. The spoke softly for most of the ruins were asleep. Now that Edmund had time to ponder the subject, he decided if Moredhel didn't choose Elrond on some crazy cold-blooded revenge streak but instead chose him because the current King of Narnia wanted revenge on the elf that killed Miraz. Only Moredhel got the wrong Elf. The Just King was positive these thoughts were running through Glorfindel's head as well.

Edmund decided that wasn't the case. Glorfindel was a pretty easy Elf to recognize; the mighty golden haired Balrog-slayer. He was a legend. Who wouldn't recognize him? Perhaps Moredhel took Elrond to make Glorfindel angry. Maybe Glorfindel did something to Moredhel that made him mad and wanted to get his revenge. It was clear enough that Elrond and Glorfindel were friends. And that the blonde elf cared for his lord. He was an easy target.

That still doesn't mean what he did was right and it needs to be punished.

Oh and it will. Moredhel will get what's coming to him. Edmund will make sure the dark elf was killed. He didn't care who did it.

Moredhel definitely knew how to get people on his side. He already has Mirkwood on his side. Edmund guess that Moredhel used the many arguments between Elrond and the Elvenking of Mirkwood to sway Thranduil. His son, however, wouldn't fall for it and made a very risky move to travel to Narnia.

Then again, Glorfindel made a very stupid move and told Thranduil where he was going. Of course Glorfindel didn't know the Elvenking was on Moredhel's side so it wasn't really his fault. But he should have known that the messenger could have been waylaid and the letter could have gotten stolen.

"How do we know that?" Peter asked, "I mean, Moredhel basically broke him, he can't trust anyone – expect Edmund, of course – and he freaks out whenever we _do_ try to help him!"

Edmund hated to admit it, but it sounded like Peter was questioning if Elrond was worth saving.

Glorfindel seemed to notice that as well because he became angry. "Now wait just a minute…"

Peter cut him off, "He _punched_ you Glorfindel!"

"He thought I was Moredhel!" Done with all arguments, the blonde warrior got up and stormed away. Susan and Edmund stared at Glorfindel's retreating figure. Peter remained staring at fire.

After Glorfindel disappeared, Susan looked at her older brother, "That was handled nicely."

"Oh shut up," Peter got up and stormed off in the opposition direction Glorfindel took.

"Where are they going?" Susan asked once they were both gone.

Edmund thought for a minute, "Peter most likely went down to the lake. Glorfindel, I think, went to the forest. Aragorn will find him later." With Lucy gone, Susan was the only one – surprisingly – that Edmund could talk to. Peter was always complaining about something. Edmund knew he wasn't too fond of the Elves.

"Perhaps it will be best if we got some sleep."

* * *

><p>When Edmund and Susan awoke the next morning, there was still no sign of Peter but Glorfindel returned sometime in the night. The two found him in the very spot he was sitting last night. He sat on the ground with his knees drawn up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them. His forehead rested on his arms, hidden from their sight. They could see slightly that he was trembling.<p>

With one frightened look, Edmund and Susan were sitting at the Elf's side. Edmund sat on his left, Susan on his right. The girl put her hand on his shoulder. Glorfindel didn't move.

"Glorfindel?"

They were rewarded with a loud sob.

Edmund doubted it was what Peter said last night that upset the Elf so much. It must have been something much deeper than that.

"Glorfindel," Susan pressed, "What's wrong? You can tell us."

The blonde elf shook his head. His voice was barely above a whisper. "I've failed him,"

Edmund's breath caught in his throat. He meant Elrond. What had happened? The Elf seemed fine when he left him last night. The boy knew Elrond was depressed and struggling to hold on, but he said he wanted to fight it! He wouldn't try anything, would he?

Then it hit Edmund. Oh how could he be so stupid? Why didn't he see it sooner? The best way Elrond could fight Moredhel was by killing himself.

"Glorfindel…did he…?"

"He tried to…"

"But?"

"But he didn't cut deep enough."

Susan shut her eyes in pain. It was true that she cared for the Elf. Someone attempting suicide was painful on anyone.

"Where did I go wrong?" Glorfindel said, "I tried to help, I really did. I made sure I was there for him. I was never angry…" He would have continued if more sobs didn't catch in his throat.

Susan wrapped her arm around Glorfindel's shoulder. Edmund thought for a moment before speaking. He knew Glorfindel was in a delicate state, one wrong word would drive him over the edge. "I don't think…it was anything you did…or anyone did for that matter. I think it was what happened to him. The captivity, the torture, it drove him over the edge."

"I could have come sooner. He wouldn't have gone through this if only…if only I…I…"

Susan and Edmund only understood half of what Glorfindel said for they were not there when the attack on Rivendell took place. "You couldn't have known this was going to happen. It's not your fault."

Glorfindel cringed at 'it's not your fault.' Obviously there was something they didn't know. "There is something…you don't know."

"You can tell us," Susan said gently."

Glorfindel hesitated, "Promise…promise me you won't be angry?"

Susan almost laughed, "No matter what you say, we will not be angry with you."

"I…Moredhel wasn't always 'Moredhel.' His name was Calanon when he…when he lived in Rivendell." Susan and Edmund gave each other a horrified look. Glorfindel continued, "He never liked Elrond. One day…one day I heard him t-talking…nothing good…about Elrond. I made the stupidest mistake ever. Elrond always told me to let it go, that what was said didn't bother him." Glorfindel shook his head, "I didn't believe him. I became angry and attacked Cal – Moredhel. He was stronger than I took him for and soon he got the upper hand. Elrond saw…him on me with a knife at my throat. He banished Moredhel but I knew he would come back…for revenge."

"That still doesn't mean it's your fault. You were protecting your Lord; any honorable person would have done that. I honestly doubt that he blames you, quite the opposite, actually."

Unable to keep himself still longer, Edmund stood up and left Susan with Glorfindel. Susan understood – he needed to see his friend. Besides, she was better at comforting people than he is.

* * *

><p>Edmund slowly pushed the door open. He stopped dead when scent of blood hit him. The only other one in the room was Aragorn. The man was sitting in a chair beside the bed. Edmund slowly made his way over to Aragorn.<p>

"What happened?" Edmund asked breathless.

The sheets were red with blood along with Elrond's right arm. Aragorn bent down and picked up a knife that was on the ground. Its blade was stained red.

"He," Aragorn nodded at Elrond, "found this sometime last night, decided he had enough. I honestly don't blame him."

Edmund almost felt scared to ask, "But he's…ok, right?"

Aragorn smirked and stood up. The man turned towards Edmund and placed a hand on his shoulder, "He will be fine. He will be very tired once he starts to get better but he is fine. Do not worry, Edmund."

Edmund nodded feeling tears welling in his eyes. He sat down in the seat Aragorn left vacant. The man decided to leave the boy alone. Just as he was walking out the door, he heard Edmund say, "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you." The man was crying as he left the room.

Edmund didn't get. Why would Elrond do this? Did he do something to make him upset? Was this all his fault? It couldn't be…but then again…yes, it could very well be his fault. He didn't protect Elrond enough. He pretty much left him to die! Why was this happening? What had he done to deserve this? What did Elrond do? Their happy melody was starting to fade out.

He looked over at the knife that was found. Never is he going to say, 'the knife Elrond used to kill himself.' He was shocked when he recognized the red handle and golden lion pommel.

It was Lucy's dagger.

_**Author's Note:**__ Please review! I understand that suicide might be OOC for an Elf but considering that Moredhel is slowly ruining Elrond's life and destroying him as well, I deemed it no so out of character for the situation._


	15. En Route to Lothlorien

**Mark of the Beast**

**Chapter Fifteen: En Route to Lothlorien**

Edmund leaned forward in his chair. "My friend, you are a pure mystery," he whispered. The Elf was asleep. It looked as if nothing had changed. But Edmund could see that something had. He was stronger. Edmund didn't honestly understand it. Not a day ago, the Elf was trying to kill himself. But now, it seemed as if nothing had happened to him.

"I wish I understood Elves. It would make this so much easier to understand," the boy sighed. He twisted in his chair as he heard the door open. Aragorn walked over to him.

The man smiled, "Trust me, with somebody like Elrond, try all you want, you will never fully understand him. Even Glorfindel is still trying too."

"But he's getting better!"

Edmund noticed a staggering change in Aragorn. As the words came out of his mouth, the smile on the man's face faded. He sat down on the edge of the bed and shook his head. When he looked at him, tears were in his eyes. "No, he isn't."

The boy stood up quickly, causing the chair to clatter to the ground. "What are you talking about?"

Aragorn sighed, "He was poisoned. I don't know who did it but someone managed to slip poison into a drink. I'm not sure what poison it is but I've narrowed it down. He may never wake up."

"You mean…he's in a coma?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes, he is."

"Why have you told Glorfindel this?"

Aragorn ran a hand over his face. He shook his head, "I don't know. I know that he deserves to know. He needs to know. He thinks Elrond is just suffering from the torture but it's actually much, much more than that."

Edmund didn't get to responded because Peter came storming into the room, "Elrond was poisoned!"

Aragorn and Edmund shared a confused look. Edmund was the only person that the man told. So how did Peter know?

"How did you know this?"

Peter didn't sense the confusion in the man's voice, "Gandalf told me."

Aragorn stood up, worried now. Gandalf told him. Then Peter wasn't talking about the same poison. The man surged forward moving quickly past Peter and out of the room. Peter and Edmund shared a look before following him.

The Wizard was talking to Glorfindel when Aragorn found him. Peter and Edmund were hot on his trail. The man didn't even stop to consider if Glorfindel knew or not.

"What poison, Gandalf?" The Wizard seemed confused but Aragorn took it as a ploy to not answer his question. "You know what I am talking about. _What_ poison, Gandalf?" The words came out of his mouth in a sneer.

Glorfindel looked at Gandalf in confusion, "What is he talking about?" He sounded just about as cross as Aragorn.

The Wizard sighed in defeat, "I believe that Moredhel poisoned Elrond. In fact, I know he did. He was poisoned with a toxin that will slowly consume Elrond until he is nothing but a monster. The process is slow and painful. Elrond will be begging for death before it is even truly started."

Glorfindel was seething with anger; anger at Moredhel at doing this, anger at Gandalf for not telling him this. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"It would not matter when and if I ever told you. There is no cure."

Peter spoke up, "Surely there has to be something! Elrond will die!"

The conversation was ended when Aragorn turned on his heel and dashed towards Elrond's room. As expected, there was no visible change to the Elf. When everyone else entered the room, Aragorn was standing over the left side of the bed with a dagger in his hand.

Glorfindel's eyes grew large with fear, "Aragorn! What are you doing?"

But Aragorn didn't respond. He placed one hand gently on Elrond's left shoulder, causing the elf to involuntarily wince. The man used the dagger to tear the clothing at the shoulder down. Everyone else in the room drew closer to the bed. Gandalf walked around and stood next to Aragorn.

"It should not have gotten that far yet," Gandalf said. Elrond's arm, starting at his shoulder and reaching until the middle of his upper arm, was an unnatural shade of light purple.

"Because," Aragorn said, "Moredhel used a poison to speed the process." He dug something out his pocket. A blood red flower was laid in his hand.

Glorfindel's eyes went wide with shock, "I know this poison. It's called 'Araceae.' Its affects seems minor on humans but it is very poisonous to Elves. They usually die within a month of consumption."

"But is there a cure?"

The blonde elf nodded, "There is. It's very rare however. I only know one Elf who knows the cure."

"Who is it?"

"His name is Isferon. He lives in Duillond," He turned to Gandalf, "It isn't a long ride, if we send out somebody to gather the cure they could be back before it gets too far."

Aragorn cut in, "It's still a two week ride to and back. They would never make it back in time. Glorfindel…it's hopeless. Elrond is going to die."

"But we should still try!" Peter exclaimed. "I will not let Moredhel win! Not after he tore Narnia apart. I know it's a long trip but we should still at least try to help Elrond! We should send somebody to Duillond."

"A noble gesture indeed, Peter Pevensie," A deep voice caused everyone to turn around. A Lion stood at the door. His mane and eyes were gold. His eyes seemed to strike fear in the hearts of Aragorn and Glorfindel and excitement into the hearts of Edmund and Peter. Gandalf smirked.

"Aslan!"

* * *

><p>Lucy was beginning to regret her decision of going to Lothlorien. True, she desperately wanted to see the forest but she hadn't expected such a long journey. Apparently, there was an entrance near Rivendell which was closer to Lothlorien than where they were now.<p>

They were in place that Halbarad had called the Shire. It was filled with little people called Hobbits. They were cute. Lucy thought of them like beardless dwarves; although, they had enough hair on their feet to make a beard.

"A little people, but of great worth are the Shire-folk. Little do they know of our long labor for the safekeeping of their borders, and yet I grudge it not," Halbarad had said of the Hobbits.

They had lost their horse awhile ago while traveling through a small village that was being attacked. It was a village called Scary and it was being attacked by men and spiders. Lucy and Halbarad stopped to help the Hobbits. She was confused however when Halbarad began taking their luggage off of the horse. When she asked him about it, he just said they would be thankful he did later.

And right he was because when the battle was over, Lucy was shocked when they found that their horse was missing! One of the brigands stole their horse! Halbarad just chuckled, "So predictable."

Lucy winced as she walked. During the battle, she was caught off guard and fell, scrapping up her leg pretty bad.

"Sit down, Lucy," Halbarad said. "I'll fix your leg up."

She shook her head, "It really isn't that bad." Her actions betrayed her when she landed on her hurt leg rather hard and a shocked gasp came out of her mouth. She sighed and sat down against a large rock.

Halbarad chuckled, "Don't worry. You'll be fine in a moment."

In their short time together, Lucy and Halbarad began to form a close friendship. She saw that Halbarad wasn't anything like Aragorn, who scared Lucy the first time they met. The two Rangers were actually quite different.

When Halbarad was wrapping a bandage around her leg, a thought entered Lucy's head. "Do you think he'll make it?" Halbarad looked up, "Elrond, I mean."

The Ranger smiled, "In all the years I've known the elf lord, I found him to be very stubborn. He won't go down without a fight, trust me."

"But he's been through so much already – seven _months_ of torture. That's almost a whole year. What if he doesn't have the strength to fight anymore?"

"You are wise beyond your years, Lucy Pevensie, perhaps, too wise," Halbarad chuckled, "Yes, I'm aware of that, Lucy. I've seen many people go through much more and still survive. Elrond's a person who knows heartbreak and pain all too well. I'd tell you the story but it would take more time than we have. But don't worry, he will be fine." He stood and offered a hand to help Lucy up.

After sorting through the supplies, they got rid of what they didn't need. By the time they were done, they were left with half of what they left Narnia with. Lucy decided that it would be kind to give the hobbits of Scary what they didn't need.

The hobbits were overjoyed. They offered them a place to stay for the night and a warm bed to sleep in but they had to refuse for it was best they kept moving. Instead they gave the two enough food to sustain them the rest of their trip.

"You'll be honored for years to come in the Shire, Lucy," Halbarad said once they were out of Scary.

Lucy blushed, "I'm sure they won't remember…"

Halbarad continued as if he didn't hear her, "They'll sit with their children at night and the child would say, 'Let's hear about how Lucy saved the village of Scary.' And the parent would say 'Yes, that's one of my favorite stories!' 'Lucy was really courageous, wasn't he, Dad?' 'Yes, my boy, she was. They don't call her Lucy the Valiant for nothing!'"

Lucy laughed, "But you left out one of chief characters! Halbarad the Bold – I want to hear more about him. She wouldn't have made it out of that fight without him."

Halbarad stopped walking and chuckled, "Now, don't make fun. I was being serious."

Lucy looked up at him, "So was I." She continued down the path.

The Ranger just looked at her and whisper to himself quietly, "Halbarad the Bold…" He'll have to remember to tell that one to Aragorn. He adjusted his pack and followed the girl.

They finally reached the Brandywine Bridge. It was a great stone bridge over a beautiful blue river that extended both ways for what seemed like miles. There was a hobbit standing by the bridge. He had a hat with a feather sticking out of it on his head to block out the blinding sun.

"Good day, sir," Lucy said as they passed him. The hobbit seemed surprised and she felt sad for him. Many people must have passed this way every day and not said one hello to him.

Awhile after they passed through the Shire and entered Bree-Land, it began to rain hard. It was so hard that Halbarad was having trouble seeing the rode before him. Luckily, he knew somebody who lived nearby. It was another Ranger named Saeradan. He was a kind man although was confused when he saw Lucy. His cabin was warm because of the fire burning brightly in the hearth. Lucy was happy to get out of the rain. She went over and sat by the fire as the men spoke.

She could still hear their conversation;

"What is wrong, Halbarad? You never before traveled with one so young. What is different now?"

Halbarad said, "She is my way to get to Lothlorien."

Saeradan was confused, "You need a child to get to Lothlorien. Halbarad, explain, and I want the full story."

So Halbarad told him. He explained things Lucy didn't know before. He explained of how Rivendell was burnt down and Elrond captured, of how the elves left the valley and into Narnia, of how things went from bad to worse with Elrond and of how they needed to speak with the Lady of Lothlorien right away and that they needed somebody Moredhel didn't know to get there.

After the story was finished, Saeradan said, "Aye, tricking the enemy to get under its nose, works every time. I must say I'm impressed, Halbarad."

Halbarad laughed, "I thank you, mellon-nin, but Lucy deserves your thanks for it was all her idea."

Saeradan looked from Lucy to Halbarad, "So, what is it exactly you need from me?"

"A place to stay until the rain stops, perhaps a horse…" Halbarad said in an even tone.

In an hour or so, the rain stopped. They still stayed for a half hour to see if it would pick up or not. In the time, Lucy spent time outside of the cabin. She sat in the grass picking the little white flowers that grew on the side of the cabin. Halbarad and Saeradan were inside talking about serious things that Lucy was too tired to understand.

She was surprised when a bird landed next to her and began singing. It looked like a blue jay. Those were her favorite birds. It hoped around singing a joyful tune before flying up and landing on her shoulder. Her smile grew wider and wider. For the first time in all of this, Lucy felt at peace.

But peace fades, think all things. And soon the blue jay flew off and continued with its life as a bird.

Lucy sighed. She sometimes wishes she was like that – free. Birds didn't have to worry about wars or people trying to kill you.

Halbarad and Lucy left the cabin later that afternoon. Saeradan let them borrow his horse. Lucy found that very kind of him. She was getting tired of walking. Her feet hurt and she grew tired easily.

It took a long time to get through Bree. They must have been riding for a few days. They passed through a city the land was named after, Bree. After that they passed through a small forest called Chetwood. After that came a wild plain that had nothing good to look at but was filled with spiders, wolves, evil men, and creepy beings that scared Lucy to the bone. Halbarad called that land the Lone-Lands.

They came upon a ford late in the afternoon. The setting sun made the water look like it was a golden color instead of its normal blue.

"We've reached the Ford of Bruinen," Halbarad said. "Here lies the border of Rivendell. We are close now."

Next was the part Lucy both dreaded and was excited for; the valley of Rivendell.

They stood on the ridge that looked over the valley. Halbarad had on hand on the horse's reins. Lucy was in total shock. She hadn't expected it to be this bad.

Buildings that were still standing were burnt black. Some were knocked down completely and just a pile of ashes. Some pieces of destroyed buildings had fallen into the river below. Luckily, the bridge was still standing. Halbarad placed a hand on her shoulder. When she looked up at him, it was the first time she noticed she was crying.

Walking through the wreckage was even worse. Lucy couldn't image how hard it would be for the Elves to come back and see all this, especially Elrond, who doesn't even know this happened. There was a large building that was probably what Halbarad had called the Last Homely House. It wasn't that damaged, at least not as badly as the rest of Rivendell…they could probably repair it.

Lucy felt something fury brush against her ankle. Looking drown, she saw something all too familiar to her. She struggled to push the fountain that crushed the creature's upper body away. Tears sprang to her eyes once she saw it – a faun dressed in blue armor.

"Oh Aslan…why has this happened? What did they do to deserve this?"

Halbarad, who was watching from afar, stepped forward quietly, "King Caspian must have swayed them onto his side."

"King Caspian?" Lucy asked. "I thought it was Moredhel who did this?"

The Ranger nodded, "It was but he was working under Caspian. The Narnians are nothing but Telmarines now."

"That's why Aslan brought back the Old Narnians…" Halbarad didn't know who this 'Aslan' was but he found it better not to ask at this moment. "Was there a fight?" Lucy's voice snapped Halbarad out of his thoughts.

"I do not think so. This one," he nodded at the faun, "must have gotten caught and was crushed. I think Rivendell's only defense at the time was Glorfindel and even he did not know what was happening at time."

"He just wanted to get Elrond out of Rivendell before…he got hurt." They both remained silent for a time before Lucy rose. "Just because Glorfindel couldn't protect Elrond in time doesn't mean we can't. Come on, it's about time we get going to Lothlorien."

Halbarad couldn't help but smile as he followed the small child.

The Misty Mountains were truly awful. It chilled Lucy to the bone. They got lost countless times and chased by bears and other wild animals. Their horse kept getting stuck in the snow. There was no proper path through the Mountains so they had to go off of Halbarad's instincts. The path to Rivendell was just as confusing but at least there was a path – they just had to find it.

As much as she wanted to, there was no sleeping when they were in the Mountains. It wasn't safe; especially when they entered the region that the giants, trolls, and evil dwarves lived in. Lucy found herself dreading what would come next. But what could possibly be worse than trolls?

Goblins, whole tribes of them that was worse than trolls.

They had to be extra careful in those parts. The ground of very slippery and the pathways were narrow. They made Lucy feel scared and brave at the same time. At times, she would desperately want to go back. At times, she would want to be safe in her brother's arms again. But then she would remember exactly what she was doing and where they were going.

She was travelling with a ranger, Halbarad, to the elven forest of Lothlorien. They were going there to ask for aid for an upcoming battle. They were desperately out matched. They were doing this all to save an elf lord named Elrond.

When they neared the end of the Mountains, Halbarad deemed it a safe enough area to get some sleep. Lucy couldn't be happier. They were pushing on two days without rest. Their horse was probably just as tired as they were.

Once they found a relatively dry area, a camp was made. Halbarad found it useless to try and make a fire. There hasn't been a tree in sight since they left Rivendell. That night, Lucy's sleep was filled with nightmares.

_There was a cold dark cell made of ice. It was here the witch kept here favorite prisoners, deep down into the earth, totally consumed by ice and chilled to the bone. The castle was coldest here and fitting place for them to pay for their crimes. There was no relief in death for it would not reach you. Just as you began to die, the witch would turn you to stone – to preserve your life._

_There was only one prisoner down there at that time. What his story was or why he was there did not matter anymore. He was a prisoner of the witch. He would be shown no mercy. The witch did not know the meaning of the word 'mercy'._

_The cold ice blue floors of the cell were splattered with red blood. He did not flinch. He dare not. 'Show no emotion, and you may be spared pain' and he did so._

_Nobody knew this prisoner. Maybe there was somebody out there who did, somebody who existed a long while ago – but not anymore. This was life. This is what he knew, just pain. There was no denying it. Life was full of pain. There was no hiding it._

_Salty tears would mix with the blood. The only emotion he could still show. Perhaps he cried for the life he once had before, if he could still remember it. He was a prisoner. He could not remember his name, where he lived before, who his family is or who once cared for him._

_Had anyone cared for him? Is that why he was here, because nobody cared? What wrong had he done? He could not remember. Shouldn't he have a chance to redeem himself? Was that not fair? He guessed it wasn't._

_The witch laughed, "Just give in, there is no escape."_

_The prisoner raised his eyes to the roof and imagined the night sky. Was it true? Was there truly no escape?_

Lucy was startled out of here sleep. She couldn't see Halbarad but she knew he was there, keeping watch somewhere in the shadows. She pulled her legs up to her chest and hugged them. Her dream startled her. What did it mean? The prisoner seemed very familiar, as did the witch, and the castle.

_Lucy surged forward and left Susan standing there alone. She ran and ran until she finally reached a statue of a faun. Susan finally caught up to her. Even her older sister was shocked in seeing the statue. The faun was an old friend to Lucy and the very first person she met when she first arrived in Narnia. The young girl felt her sister wrap an arm around her small shoulders as she cried. How could the White Witch do this?_

She nearly gasped as the memory came back to her. The witch in her dream was Jadis and the cell of ice was part of her castle. Who was the prisoner then?

Why did she dream this? Was it just a nightmare or was this happening now? Who could Jadis possible want? Lucy's head snapped up when the thought hit her; _Elrond._

But wait, Jadis was dead. Wasn't she? Of course she was! Aslan had killed her! Peter saw Him killed her and Peter wouldn't lie to her. There was always a chance some magician had figured out a way to bring Jadis back. Oh this was all too awful. Perhaps it was just nightmares but there was something in the back of her mind telling her this was important. This was happening. Elrond was in danger and they had to go back.

Lucy was on her feet in seconds. In that very moment, Halbarad had come back to their pathetic excuse for a camp-site.

"Lucy?" Halbarad asked, "I thought you were asleep." She just nodded. He came forward a little more, "What is wrong?"

She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "We have to go back. Elrond…he's in danger."

When she made a dash for the horse, Halbarad caught her before she could, "Hold there! Just wait a moment. Tell me what happened," Lucy felt both happy and shocked that an adult believed a child! She told him about her dream and he seemed to believe it. "While it seems our friend is in danger. It would be useless to go back now. They are expecting us to come back with an army, and that's what we will do."

"What about Elrond though?"

"We are close enough to Lothlorien. Perhaps half a day's ride if we move quickly. There you'll get your chance to explain your dream to Lady Galadriel. She'll help you understand it. She'll tell you what must be done. For now, we continue on to Lothlorien, deal?"

Lucy nodded.

Lucy watched as the ground went from rocky to flat and from snow to grass in mere moments. After a night's rest, they were began their trek again and at a faster pace. They were pressed by horrifying images of a captive Elf lord. Halbarad pushed the horse at a tremendous speed. Lucy found herself holding on tightly to the saddle. The horse seemed to have no trouble at all moving that quickly. It seemed to enjoy it even.

They were moving too quickly to enjoy the ride at all. She watched as everything surged passed in colorful blurs. Once they reached the beginnings of a forest, Halbarad slowed the horse. He slowed it until they were just walking. At one point, Halbarad stopped the horse completely and dismounted.

"What are you…?"

"I don't want to show the Elves we're a threat," Halbarad said. Lucy nodded and dismounted.

"Are they…are they here, watching us?"

Halbarad shrugged and glanced at the trees, "They could be. Not likely, however, we still have awhile before we truly step foot in Lothlorien. They'll intercept us far before that."

Walking through the woods, Lucy had the chance to think of things she hadn't before. What would happen if the Elves don't let them pass? What would they do then? What _could_ they do then? She remembered some of the Rivendell Elves keeping their distance. Lucy didn't know why but she had guessed it was because she was human.

Lucy was pulled from her thoughts when an arrow was suddenly pointed at her. She found herself moving closer to Halbarad. The Ranger however did not seem affected as if he was use to this sort of greeting from these Elves. She remembered a conversation the two had when they were still in the Shire.

"_These are troubling times for everyone in Middle-Earth but especially for the Elves. They are preparing to leave this land. The Shadow keeps most here but only for so long. Their time is ending. New Enemies are rising against the Free Peoples. The Elves are affected as well and are forced to keep a watchful eye on their borders."_

"_They're leaving? Where will they go?"_

_Halbarad smiled, "A land, Lucy Pevensie, far greater than you and I can imagine. Tis a land made only for the Elves. I sometimes sit back and wonder what it looks like."_

_A small giggle came from Lucy, "and what do you see?"_

_The Ranger got a faraway look in his eye as he answered, "I see rolling green hills and plains, glistening white cities and castles, trees that would shine when the light hit them just right, a place where people no longer knew fear and worry. I sometimes wish I was born an Elf so I could get to see that."_

Halbarad address the Elf Lucy thought was in charge, "Mae govannen, Haldir."

The elf, unlike the rest, didn't have a bow but Lucy didn't find him anymore welcoming than the rest. The Elf answered Halbarad in Elvish. She sometimes heard Glorfindel, Elladan and Elrohir speaking it. They continued on like this for awhile. The archers kept their bows in place. Lucy kept giving them nervous sideways glances. They finally lowered their bows once Haldir told them too.

Lucy was shocked when Haldir spoke to her; "Welcome to the Golden Wood," he said.

A warm welcome indeed…


	16. In a Time of Lost Hope

**Mark of the Beast**

**Chapter Sixteen: In a Time of Lost Hope**

They were met with an elf patrol. Haldir was the leader of this patrol. After speaking with Haldir, Halbarad managed to convince him that they brought no evil to the forest. Apparently, some of the elves had questioned her being with Halbarad. The Ranger and Elf spoke of it and the matter was cleared up; Lucy was no spy.

'Spy…how could they think I was a spy?' Lucy thought to herself when Halbarad told her what all the fuss was about.

"Well…it was either that or witch…I was never good at speaking Elvish," Halbarad joked. "Don't take it too heart, Lucy. These are troubling times for the Elves, and the danger was increased with our coming and news of what happened to Rivendell."

"And my dream," Lucy added. Halbarad chuckled.

They were led through the forest by Haldir and the other Elves. Lucy figured out quickly that they did not speak in a language she could understand so she gave up trying to speak to them. They were dressed in grey cloaks and tunics. They reminded Lucy of Rangers, so much she even began calling them the 'Rangers of Lothlorien' but never out loud of course.

She held to Halbarad's hand as they were led through the more hazardous parts of the forest. Roots threaten to trip her. Wild plants wrapped around her ankles. Low branches hit her heard if she didn't duck. Many times Halbarad would have to stop and free her from a plant that wouldn't let go.

"It's either the trees of Lothlorien like you or they are trying to warn you of approaching evil," Halbarad said once they were on their way again.

Lucy laughed, "I hope it's the first one."

"I'm sure it is, darling."

Before they left the ruins, Aragorn spoke to both of them. If they were to run into trouble, Halbarad was to call Lucy his daughter. They only had this problem once in Bree. They stopped by an Inn called the Prancing Pony. There was this strange man that walked up to them. He was one of those men that you wouldn't actually want to talk to. He was a man with evil attentions (and toward Lucy.)

She remembered seeing these kinds of men back when she ruled Narnia. She was bluntly reminded of Rabadash. But Halbarad protected her.

_They turned around to see a man standing behind them. He clothes looked weathered and worn. He reeked of alcohol. Lucy was disgusted._

"_My my, __you've got a pretty little thing there. What you plan on doing with her?" The man leered._

_Lucy's heart raced but Halbarad remained calm. "Stand aside, sir," the Ranger replied._

"_Ahh, you know what they say," the man slurred, "secrets are no fun unless you share with everyone!" Some of the other men in the tavern roared in agreement. Other onlookers seemed to grow nervous._

"_I said," Halbarad snarled, "Stand aside…sir."_

_The man went into an over exaggerated thinking pose, "Fair enough, not willing to share, what ye price?"_

"_She's my daughter," Halbarad said in a tone just under appalled. Some of the men that did not agree with this cried out in anger._

_The man shrugged, "Don't matter to me what she is." _

_To everyone's shock, Halbarad smiled! "I suppose your right." The Ranger took one step past the man, leaving Lucy where she was. There were shouts and hollers of 'are you mad?' 'She's just a girl!' and 'Leave her be!' Before the man could move, Halbarad spun around while elbowing him hard in the back. Halbarad used a chair to hit the man over the head. The chair broke into pieces and the men fell to the floor, unconscious. Cheers roared from inside the tavern._

_Halbarad turned to face them, "If this man bothers anyone else, I implore you all to report him to the Bree-Town Jail." There were nods of agreement from almost everyone. Halbarad turned to the inn keeper. "I apologize for this," he placed two silver coins on the counter. The innkeeper nodded in shock._

"_Come now, Lucy."_

When they first left, Lucy hadn't understood why Aragorn asked this of Halbarad. Now she was beginning to understand. It was for her protection. The people of Middle-Earth were very different than the people of Narnia.

Haldir and the elves led them through the forest. As they were led, Lucy started to see the change in trees. They grew taller and thicker in size. They were almost as thick as a bus she'd sometimes see on the street in England. If she looked up at the sky and squinted she could see little specks of blue that would be called the sky.

After what seemed like days to Lucy, they were taken up a big spiraling staircase that led to a large leaf-shape platform in the trees. Haldir spent some time speaking to Halbarad in that strange elf language. Lucy did some little careful exploring while they spoke.

"What brings you this far out?" Haldir asked. He had his guesses just like everyone else but needed to make sure.

"Something horrible," the Ranger answered. "Something we must to speak with Lady Galadriel about. Dark tides are rising and they threaten the Elven realms. Rivendell was the first to fall, for it was only the example. It reaches for Mirkwood and Lorien and will reach quickly if not stopped."

There was much to tell, much Halbarad wasn't telling Haldir, and much that needed to be spoken with Lady Galadriel alone. But for what the Ranger had said, it was the true.

Haldir seemed to consider this, "You request an army then."

Halbarad shook his head, "Not even an army – just enough well-armed elves to help hold back this shadow."

The elf chuckled, "Have you not considered going to Mirkwood for aid? Surely Thranduil's people are much more well prepared than ours."

The smile was wiped off Haldir's face when Halbarad's expression went grave, "Thranduil…has been swayed by the shadow. The Elvenking knows of our location, by means of a letter sent by Lord Glorfindel that is why Lucy and I ride with such haste. The people of Lothlorien must help defend Imladris or all will be lost."

"There is more," Haldir pressed.

Halbarad looked nervous, shifting from foot to foot, "And they must be prepared for a Kinslaying."

Haldir drew in a long breath, suddenly appalled by the idea. But the factors weighed heavily in his mind. If they did not help in Elves of Imladris, Lothlorien shall fall as well. At last, much to Halbarad's delight, Haldir nodded, "I shall speak to the Lord and Lady."

"Thank you, Haldir," Halbarad sighed in relief.

The elf nodded, turned and left down the stairs. Halbarad walked over to Lucy. "Rest up," he says, "we'll probably speak to the Lord and Lady tomorrow."

Lucy looked up at him hopefully, "We? That means I don't have to do it alone?"

Halbarad knelled down and looked at her, "Of course you don't have to do it alone, that's why I'm here! Of course, you will have to explain your dream alone for I cannot help with that. But with everything else I shall be by your side."

Lucy smiled as she flung her small arms around his neck. Halbarad laughed as he returned the embrace.

* * *

><p>Edmund watched as the sun set slowly in the west. His mood and spirit was trampled over and crushed. He should have seen this coming anyway. Perhaps he did, perhaps he always knew but had forgotten it. Yes, he always knew Elrond would not make it through this.<p>

Dark images flashed through his mind, teasing him gently, waiting until he became so infuriated and then flashed away and brought a new image with it. He remembered meeting…well, seeing Elrond for the first time and getting over his nerve to speak to him. He then saw the times Moredhel paid a 'visit' to them and how tired and weak Elrond would be after. The sinking feeling he felt was starting to return now. After all that, that sick monster was going to win.

Edmund turned when he heard somebody approach him from behind. It was just Aragorn. He quickly wiped away the tears he did not know he had. But the man has his own tears as well, as did many men, elves, and – surprisingly – Narnians. The creatures he once governed had grown to respect the elf-lord and wanted to see him recover from this.

"It's alright friend," Aragorn said as he sat down next to the boy, "I cry as well."

The boy just shrugged. "Do you think he knew?" Aragorn raised an eyebrow in question. "About the poison, I mean, do you think that is why he tried…tried to…" Edmund found he was choked by tears and could not continue.

Aragorn nodded absentmindedly, "It is a possibility. Gandalf had side himself that the process was painful. Perhaps Elrond did not want to make anyone bear the burden of killing him. He did not wish anyone to live on in regret for what they did. So he tried to do it himself."

"There were other ways," The boy said quietly. "Why would he choose to bleed to death?"

"Perhaps…" Aragorn struggled for words. "He found it fitting that why. All he's ever known for the past year was how to bleed. Maybe," Aragorn choked back tears, "he thought he would go that as well."

"I wish this never happened. I wish Moredhel never existed. I wish…that I never met you." Aragorn's head snapped over to look at him in pure shock. The Ranger waited for Edmund's explanation. "That way, we would have been brought here and this would never happen."

"I don't think it would go that way, friend. Glorfindel had said that before they left the valley, a horn appeared almost out of nowhere. He said it beckoned to him in a cry of need, or an answer to his need," Aragorn paused, looking out towards the sunset. "The need of finding Elrond – before it was too late."

Edmund felt tears breaking free and slipping down his face. He felt a strong hand on his shoulder, "Fear not, Edmund," Aragorn said, "For wrong will be right…"

The boy gazed in shock at the Ranger as he finished the old rhyme he knew since childhood, "…when Aslan comes in sight."

Aslan was here. That meant the ending of this pointless war is close, right? Elrond would be fine. Edmund was finally starting to believe that everything, in the long run, will be alright. Whether or not Elrond did, they will survive, live on. He hated all of this. Such pointless evil, Moredhel was a fool. If this was just a pointless revenge-plot or the planning of something bigger, Edmund did not know. But was it really necessary to kidnap Elrond? Was it necessary to make him go through all those endless hours of torture? To make his family suffer? Did Moredhel really think this through?

He was told vaguely of what happened when the twins' mother was captured and tortured. She left Middle-Earth and the twins went borderline insane. What would happen then if Elrond died? What would they do then? Personally go to the castle and kill King Caspian, not caring what happens to them?

Aragorn's voice pulled him out of his musings, "If it helps, you are dealing with this a lot better than Glorfindel is." Edmund turned and looked at him. The Ranger continued, "A tired mess."

He couldn't help it; a small smile crept its way onto Edmund's face. Aragorn sighed, "It seems to be my job now; comforting people. No more Aragorn, Chieftain of the Dunedain. Now it is Aragorn, the Comforting Ranger!"

Edmund laughed, "It can't be that bad…"

"Well let's see, there are you…Glorfindel, Elrohir…Lucy, Peter…_once_ Elrond but that didn't go that far."

"Oh?"

Aragorn turned to look at him, "You are still the only one who can get through to him. All other attempts are futile."

"You get punched as well?"

Aragorn laughed and shoved Edmund playfully, "Oh quiet you! It was my fault really. I should have known I wouldn't get far."

Suddenly a question entered Edmund's mind, "How much of a warrior is Elrohir?"

The man seemed taken aback by the question, "As much as Elladan I would say. Elrohir is a lot closer to Elrond than Elladan is and was shaken by this whole thing. Do not worry; by the time the battle comes, he'll be back to normal." There was no denying a battle would be coming but this was the first time somebody mentioned it out loud. Everyone was thinking it. Why else would Aslan send the Old Narnians back? For peace negotiations?

"How long do you think it will be until your friend and Lucy return?"

Aragorn sighed. Halbarad left with the young Queen a week ago. They should at least be near Lothlorien by now, that is, if they didn't run into trouble. "I don't know. It depends really on if they ran into trouble or not. Without trouble, it should take about a week or so. On the other hand, Orcs have been patrolling the lands we once called safe, making travel near impossible. Many of my kindred are currently out keeping the roads safe."

"They should be all set then!" Edmund exclaimed.

The man laughed, "Really Edmund, you flatter us. Rangers, although skilled, can be quickly overwhelmed just as any other human. It happened to me many times. I remember finding me walking into the House of Healing in Rivendell bleeding until the floors were stained red," he laughed again. "Elrond would give me the most disapproving look." He crossed him arms over his chest, raised an eyebrow in question, and frowned. The attempt to imitate his father was so feeble that both men found themselves in hysterics.

When they finally regained their composure, Aragorn said, "Besides, if anything is to go wrong, Halbarad has his 'daughter' to protect him." Aragorn got the reaction he expected, pure confusion. "I told Halbarad before they left to protect Lucy with his life. If they are questioned, we decided Lucy is to be called Halbarad's daughter – to ensure no further question is needed."

"Who would question a Ranger?"

"You'd be surprised at the people we see trying to imitate us; tomb-raiders and thieves, murders and criminals. We've seen them all trying to pass as one of the Dunedain. The elves of Lothlorien know us well but their guard has been tight these days. Halbarad knows this and will not be deterred when the Elves come at them with bows and arrows."

"Hey Aragorn?"

"Yes Edmund?"

"What is an Orc?"

* * *

><p>Lucy awoke the next morning with small rays of sunlight shining down on her. She smiled and sat up on the cot she was sleeping on. The elves kindly provided them a place to stay for the night, complete with two comfortable cots, warm blankets and fluffy pillows. It felt nice, finally sleeping on something other than the hard, uncomfortable ground. She woke up feeling like queen she once was.<p>

_If only I could do something with these dirty traveling clothes…?_ Lucy thought to herself as her bare foot hit something soft. She looked down at the end of the cot. A beautiful light blue dress folded on the edge of the cot. Lucy's smile grew, these Elves thought of everything.

She swung her feet off the edge of the cot and stood up. The floor was cool against her bare feet. She gently picked up the dress and went for a private place to change.

A steaming tray of food was left for them by the Elves. There were two plates filled with delicious looking food that made Lucy's mouth water. A pitcher of water and two glasses were set off to the side of the tray. Whoever carried this tray up here must have had incredible balance.

Lucy set out the glasses and poured water in each until they were filled nearly to the top. Oh how badly she wanted to fill her stomach but it would be rude to not wait for Halbarad to wake up.

Almost as cue, she heard Halbarad groaning as he started to wake up. She looked over and saw the man rub his eyes and stretch his arms like she's seen Peter and Edmund do millions of times. A smile was brought to her face.

"Hello," he said sleepily, "when did you wake up?"

Lucy smirked, "A while ago." In truth she had only woke up just about fifteen minutes ago, but she decided it would be fun to tease him.

But Halbarad seemed to be on to her ploy. He swung his legs over the side of his cot, stood up and strode over to Lucy. He ruffled her hair before sitting down at the small table. Lucy sat down on the other side.

They ate the lovely meal that was left for them. It was actually the most peaceful they've both been this whole journey.

"Aragorn and I were in a small town in Evendim," Halbarad was telling Lucy of an adventure he had as a Ranger, "We were helping defeat the tomb-raiders that were taking over the city. It must have been the dead of midnight, pitch black. All of a sudden, a _huge_ column of fire leaps up out of nowhere. It surprised us both. Aragorn fell backwards and his sword just smacks against my forehead."

Halbarad had used his arm to act out the sword hitting his forehead. Accidently, his arm had hit the pitcher of water and it fell off the table and over platform, attacking anyone walking below with water. Unfortunately for them, there was an unlucky traveler walking near their platform at that moment. For a few seconds after the pitcher tipped over, they heard someone cry out in Elvish.

"That must have been Haldir," Halbarad said.

Lucy couldn't keep the smirk of her face. It was a rather comical situation. Soon she and Halbarad bother were laughing uncontrollably.

"Hope he's not too mad at us," Lucy said looking over at the edge of the platform.

Still laughed, Halbarad just shook his head and stood from the table. "He won't be too mad – surprised maybe, but not mad. It's just what we need, honestly, something to get rid of the stress from this damn thing. I'm sure he'll be happy to hear he was person to relive this burden from us!"

Halbarad left to change into the clothes the elves left him, giving Lucy time to think.

She hated the broken state Narnia was in now and the way the elves probably despised it. She thought if Narnia was still in its Golden Age, the elves would have liked it. The feasts, parties, dances, Lucy thought the elves would like all that. When she first met an elf – it was Glorfindel, actually – he reminded her of dryad – kind, gentle, beautiful.

Oh how she missed her Narnia. This war ridden, broken, Narnia that was there now wasn't her home. She found no joy in the sunlight or the stars. All she wanted was this to be over – for Narnia to become as it once was even if it wasn't them ruling. She just wanted Narnia to be the Narnia she remembered.

It was a couple of hours until somebody came for them. They filled the time by sharing stories of adventures in their own lands. Halbarad seemed fascinated that somebody as young as Lucy went through as much as she did. Lucy enjoyed hearing stories of Halbarad's adventures as a Ranger.

That's when Haldir came and ruined their fun.

"The Lord and Lady wish to speak with you both."

* * *

><p>There was one shocking moment back in the ruins when Elrond woke up. The elf woke up with a suffocating feeling in his chest and a burning pain in his shoulder. It was a larger pain than he's ever felt. It was the pain of loss, fleeting hope, isolation and he couldn't shake it. He didn't know where he was, or if he was safe. Panic began to rise in his stomach as his heart began beating faster.<p>

He didn't know how it happened but he somehow ended up on the ground. He could hear people coming but they sounded so distant, so far away, too far. They won't reach him in time. No, he was alone, just like always. What is this pain he feels?

A pounding sensation struck him. It felt like there were cave trolls pounding away inside of his head. Dark images flashed through his memory. There was a dark cell lathered in blood – his blood. And there was a man…no an elf. He couldn't see him that well. He remembers pain – just pain. It was like a bloody image from a nightmare you just can't forget. Although there was a twist in this story, he lived this nightmare.

And then there was light, such a bright, blinding light. It cut through his darkness. He reached for it, longed for it. The dark was no place for an elf – no place for him. He needed to get out of the darkness. He needed to escape.

"Elrond!" somebody shouted. But he couldn't see. The darkness was too thick. "Elrond, please, snap out of it!"

The darkness started to fade. He started to become aware of things around him. There was somebody sitting next to him with their hands on his shoulders. He was screaming at him. Why was he screaming? What was going on?

He began to recognize the person. "Glorfindel…"

The other elf smiled and tears sprung to his eyes. Why was Glorfindel crying? Had he done something wrong? It suddenly came back to him. The fight, shouted words, the punch, Glorfindel falling to the floor, the blonde elf glaring at him. He hadn't meant it! It wasn't him! _Oh, Glorfindel...is there a chance you could forgive me? I know I don't deserve it. You've done so much already._

But Glorfindel looked happy, "Yes, friend. It is I."

"I'm sorry," his voice was barely above a whisper but Glorfindel heard it. He _needed_ to hear it.

"Sorry? For what?"

"You're the only thing stopping me from turning into a monster. Every time I start to let go," he shook his head, "I just can't do it. Because I know you're there and you won't let it happen. I'm sorry…what I've done…I'm sorry, I didn't mean it."

Glorfindel pulled him into his embrace, "Shh, Elrond, calm down. You have nothing to apologize for. It's alright; everything is going to be fine. I'll be here for you through it all; every step of the way I promise you won't be alone."

He began to cry. Sobs shook his body as Glorfindel held him closer. "I'm sorry…about your eye, for everything. I'm sorry for everything."

Glorfindel pulled slightly out of the embrace in confusion, "What are you talking about?"

"I…"

The blonde elf pulled totally out of the embrace. He placed his hands on Elrond's shoulders and looked his friend in the eye. "No, Elrond, that wasn't you. That was Moredhel. Everything bad you think you did was Moredhel, not you."

"Please don't leave," he pleaded, "I don't know what I'll do without you here."

Glorfindel nodded as he pulled Elrond into a soft embrace once again, "…I'll never leave…I promise."

**A/N:** _Please review?_


	17. The Mindset of a Monster

_**A/N:**__ I know I've been gone for awhile. I have two (semi)good excuses for my absentness. One; I was hit badly with writers block. It was truly in every way, awful. I couldn't write down two words without hating them. And Two; the sequel – yes, there will be a sequel. Truly, this is the little prequel that sets up everything in the sequel. Anyway, I've been planning the sequel for a whole year now. It's _huge_. Most of my thoughts have recently been pointed towards that._

**Mark of the Beast**

**Chapter Seventeen: The Mindset of a Monster **

"He should be well enough to move by tomorrow."

"How?" Glorfindel whispered. "I just don't understand!" He laughed, "Just yesterday he was on his death bed but now! Oh now, you say he's well enough to stand – to speak! If you recall Mithrandir, Elrond wasn't – hasn't been well enough to anything for months now! What has changed?"

"That's exactly it, Glorfindel," Aragorn cut in. "Nothing has changed."

Glorfindel spun around to face the ranger, "He should be dead!"

"Yes, he should be yet he is not," Gandalf said with a certain gleam in his eyes. "I think there is a part of this story that we do not know...a part of the journey in which Elrond took alone."

"But…" Peter cut in quietly, "he was in a coma for two weeks – how could he do anything?"

Aragorn glanced over at Peter with a smirk on his face, "Elves are confusing creatures, Peter." The man cleared his voice as he caught Glorfindel's glare. "Gandalf is right," he said again, "there are greater forces at work here – much greater than we know. And it is in that we find our answers yet the only person who can tell us those answers is Elrond."

"Edmund is with him now, I can see if he could pry something out of him," Peter suggested.

But the Ranger shook his head, "No, it needs to come naturally – willingly – or else it will seem like we're trying to hurt him and he'll close up again. And that, I am sure, is the last thing we want. However, Edmund might just be person to get him to talk."

"How so?" Glorfindel asked.

Aragorn leaned forward and looked at the elf, "Think about it Glorfindel. The boy is truly the only one Elrond was able to talk to – to trust – for the past two months. If anyone could get _anything_ out of him, it is Edmund."

Peter spoke before Glorfindel had the chance too, "But wouldn't Edmund cause Elrond to remember just what was done to him – what he's been going through? Aren't those the memories we are trying to avoid?"

"Sadly, those memories are unavoidable as long as we remain in Narnia. No matter how well he fares those memories will always hang in the back of his mind. It is inescapable. If we want him to talk – Edmund is the one who will get him to do so."

"A battle will reach us soon," Glorfindel said suddenly, "I am surprised that Moredhel hasn't attacked us yet."

"He is planning something," Aragorn said as he was struck with a thought. "He is planning something big, something to catch us off guard."

Before anyone could react, a knock startled all of them. "Come in." The door opened slowly revealing Langlas.

"Aragorn, an elf just arrived in the ruins. She said she has an urgent message for you."

Aragorn thought for a moment, going t over the list of elves that weren't too fond of him in his head, "Did you get a name?"

Langlas shook his head, "No, she said you'd know her from sight."

The Ranger stood and strode over to the door. He brushed past Langlas and exited the room. The Ranger followed his Chieftain with Glorfindel and Peter. Gandalf followed behind.

What met them was a strange sight. There indeed was an elf maiden standing at the entrance of the ruins with her horse. Except 'maiden' probably wasn't the best term to describe her. Light brown hair and grey eyes marked her as a Sindar Elf. She heavily armored with a long bow strapped to her back and a broadsword lay in its scabbard on her horse's saddle. A broken helmet was in her hand.

As he drew close, Aragorn could see the number of injuries she bore. A small cut above her eyebrow, a gash across her shoulder where the armor doesn't cover. It seemed like somebody had stabbed her in the leg. It was then Aragorn recognized her, "Ercassiel!"

"Stand down," he ordered once he reached the wary gaurds. "She is a friend." He turned to the elf, "What brings you here?"

"News – and none of it is good," Ercassiel said.

Aragorn sighed, "I fear that is all we've been getting now. Come; come better to get it over and done with sooner than later." They withdrew back inside of the ruins.

Elladan glanced up as the sounds of a hawk reached his ears. He looked up just in time to see a hawk fly off past the trees. He narrowed his eyes and followed Aragorn.

* * *

><p>Moredhel looked up at the darkening sky and sighed. This pitiful land was almost too easy to conquer. The king was weak, his heir even weaker. Tricking them was easy, Miraz having already been close to being consumed by shadows. Caspian, consumed by his grief for his fallen uncle and king, was easy to convince.<p>

He slowly worked his way into Caspian trust until it was not the king who controlled Narnia but he and Caspian was just a ghost, agreeing to Moredhel's demands. If it wasn't for those dim-witted soldiers Caspian called an army… No matter, losing Elrond did not concern him. He was merely a toy to pass the time before the real games began.

In all truth, he was bored. If it were up to him, he would have attacked those damn ruins already. He would have killed every single being in them, taking his time when he got to his insolent son. Yet even he knew that attacking now would not be wise considering they sent out a ranger and a _girl_ to gather elven troops from Lothlorien. No, it was there he will start his attack and he'll make sure the ranger and the girl die a slow painful death.

* * *

><p>"Orcs are massing on the fields of Beruna. I'm not sure what they are here for or why they haven't attacked yet. They appear to know you are here yet they remain where they are as if they are waiting for something," Ercassiel explained.<p>

Glorfindel asked, his tone grave, "How many are there?"

Ercassiel turned to face him, "Five hundred by my count."

"By your count?" Peter asked, "You didn't go _in_ their camp did you?"

Aragorn answered, "That is how she spends her free time. Tracking down and killing Orcs. I believe I once saw her take down an entire Orc camp."

"Pure rumor," was all Ercassiel would say about the claims. "Back to the matter at hand, I do not believe we should act against this threat."

"Why not?" Glorfindel asked slightly outraged, "You said there was nearly five hundred. We could take them easily."

"Because, lord Glorfindel, it would not be wise. You are already down in numbers. Moredhel knows this and sent the Orcs as a distraction. He is waiting to attack you and if you are distracted by the Orcs, it will give him a perfect advantage point to attack – the forest."

"Why rule does Moredhel have over…" Glorfindel began but was cut off by a wide-eyed Elladan.

"Woah, you said that Moredhel knew we were low in numbers?" Ercassiel nodded. "_How_ does he know that?"

Just then a movement in the back of the room caught nearly everyone's attention. It was a slight shuffle like somebody was trying to flee, to leave the room without anyone noticing. Ercassiel looked over at Aragorn, "You have a traitor in your midst, Aragorn." _Slam_. The door crashed close. Two rangers, Langlas and Mallor, surged forward followed by Aragorn.

The Chieftain was met with a scene that would be called humorous if the setting weren't so grim. Langlas and Mallor were wrestling with another Ranger, who had to be the traitor. Aragorn's mind screamed at him for being foolish, for not seeing this sooner. He could have prevented such a thing from happening if he were paying attention.

Mallor was thrown backwards when the traitor punched him below his chin. Langlas lunged forward, catching the man at his neck. But he misjudged the jump and ended up slamming his first into the ground. The traitor took the chance and punched Langlas in the stomach. The ranger reeled backwards in pain, allowing the stranger to slip out from under his grasp.

Aragorn rushed forward, catching the traitor in a headlock. He fell backwards with the traitor falling on top of him. Langlas and Mallor, having recovered, each grab one of the man's arms. The man fought back. He elbowed Langlas in the throat. The ranger fell to the ground coughing. Mallor twisted around and accidently loosened his grasp. The man broke free and ran forward towards the exit.

Having there by no gaurds, the man could make a clean getaway. Aragorn was about to get up when somebody cried out, "Aragorn, stay down!" Langlas and Mallor instinctively dropped to the ground as well.

An arrow flew over their heads and met its mark in the traitor's shoulder. The man gasped in pain and fell to his knees. He reached behind him and pulled the arrow out. Langlas and Mallor were up by the time he was standing again. The traitor kept running.

"Damn it!" Mallor shouted. Langlas looked equally as angered.

"Should we go after him?" Langlas asked.

Aragorn shook his head and sighed, "It's no use anymore. He'll come back and we'll get him then."

"But then he'll have time to tell Moredhel what we know," Mallor protested. "I think it would be wise to go after him."

Aragorn asked the two, "Truly, what else do we know that Moredhel does not?"

"We know that Elrond is better than before," Langlas pointed out.

"Oh, I am certain Moredhel knows that."

"He knows of our plan of attack against the Orcs," Langlas said slightly more irritated than before.

Elladan, who was the one that shot the arrow, came up and stood next to Aragorn, "Yet we have something to our advantage." All three men turned to him in question. "Ercassiel, I am sure we all know what a warrior she is. We could use that to deceive Moredhel."

"She has no allegiance to anyone," Langlas noted. "What makes you so sure she will help us?"

Mallor turned to him, "She has helped us many times in Evendim. The Rangers there think of her as one of our own. It would not hurt to ask and it would turn the tide into our favor."

"I thought it was already in our favor," Langlas muttered to himself as the other three stalked off back to the meeting room.

"So, what is the plan?" Aragorn asked once they got back to the room.

Glorfindel, not letting the reason they left slip past him, said, "He got away? Who was it?"

Aragorn sigh, somewhat knowing he would not get away from this subject easily, "I did not get a good look at him but I think we shall figure out who it is before the night is over. Now, what are we going to do about the Orcs in Beruna?"

"Why did you not go after him?" Glorfindel pressed the subject further.

Aragorn shut his eyes in irritation, "I did not see the reason too. He has no information that would be of any use to Moredhel. If anything, Moredhel might just kill him for that reason. _Now,_ what are we going to be doing about the Orcs in Beruna?"

Ercassiel answered him before Glorfindel had the chance to speak again, "We are planning to attack them but leave more than half our forces here. My idea was to confuse them, using both Narnians and Rangers. A diversion force would attack at the front of the camp. Two strike teams will be at the sides to weaken their forces. Then, finally, at the back would be our main attack force. With the Orcs distracted it would give them a better chance to get inside."

"All the Orcs would go straight to the front once they see the diversion team. They would be crushed in seconds." Glorfindel argued.

"That is the point, Glorfindel," she said. "The main attack force will be close behind the diversion team so they won't be overwhelmed. The Orcs would break off and go after the others after they invaded. And we have the strike team to weaken their numbers."

"Why confuse them with the Narnians?" Elladan asked.

Ercassiel smiled, "It is the one thing Moredhel does not know we have. The Orcs will simply think that they planned to attack at the same time we did."

* * *

><p>"Has he woken up yet?" Elrohir asked once he entered the room.<p>

Edmund, who was sitting at the foot of the bed, turned his head to look at the elf. He shook his head, "Not yet, but look!" he gestured for Elrohir to come over. The elf obeyed and came over and stood next to Edmund.

"His eyes are open!"

Since they rescued him, whenever he was asleep, Elrond's eyes had been closed. "Exactly," Edmund laughed at the elf's excitement. "It nearly gave me a heart attack once I saw him. I thought he was dead."

Elrohir laughed, "You mean to say, with all the elves in the ruins, you have never seen the proper way an elf sleeps?" He laughed again, "So, how long have you been sitting here?"

Edmund yawned, "Since…last night, I think? I'm not sure, I'm tired."

"Why don't you get some sleep? He'll be here when you wake up, you know."

The boy looked over at the sleeping form of Elrond and back over at Elrohir. He knew his body needed sleep but he wanted to be here and awake when Elrond woke up, to greet his friend properly. "No, I want to be awake when he wakes up."

Elrohir couldn't help to see the dedication shining brightly in the boy's eyes, the friendly love he had for his father. "Thank you…"

Edmund's head whipped around to look at him. "Thank you, for what?"

"For protecting him," Elrohir nodded at his father. "For giving him hope that hope was on the way, he wouldn't have survived without it."

Edmund never actually thought of it that way and he felt honored. He never thought that he was the reason Elrond was still alive. He never _wanted_ to think of it that way because then people would think that Elrond was in Edmund's debt. It wasn't that way at all. There was no 'Thank you's needed. It was a simple act of friendship.

"He is strong," Edmund said, "he would have made it without me." He knew that Elrohir saw it was a lie but the ell went along with it anyway.

From the way his shirt fit, Elrohir could see the scar that Moredhel's whip made, "He hurt you?"

Edmund looked at Elrohir again and then at where Elrohir was looking. "It's nothing. It's just…I tried to stop Moredhel once. Elrond was…he was…if it continued any longer than he would have died so I tried to stop Moredhel. I got whipped as a result. Elrond wouldn't speak to me after, wouldn't look at me. He thought it was his fault it happened when it wasn't."

"If Elrond had one weakness, it would be he has too much love," Elrohir says simply. "He never stays mad for too long. He hates seeing people in pain. One time, when I was in trouble for the simplest thing, Elrond gave no punishment because he saw I was crying because of what I did."

"What did you do?"

Elrohir shrugged, "Broke a vase, I think. Elladan and I have gotten into more trouble than anyone in Rivendell. It's hard to remember what they were for."

"So, what's the worst punishment you and Elladan have gotten?"

Elrohir didn't even need to think, "Cleaning the courtyard. Every single stone had to be cleaned. You've never seen it but the courtyard in Rivendell is huge. Oh and Elladan didn't get dessert but that was added on by Glorfindel."

"Why just Elladan?"

The elf laughed, "Because it was his idea that got us in trouble in the first place. You see, we dyed all of Glorfindel clean robes pink. Elrond had a pretty good laugh about it. He usually does when our pranks weren't directed at him and didn't hurt anybody." His voice failed on him as he finish. He just shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.

Dark imagines flashed through Elrohir's mind. He saw his home destroyed, burning as his father was trapped on inside. A shadowed figure sudden stepped forward, nearing the unconscious elf lord.

A hand on his shoulder snapped him back to reality. "I'm sorry…" Elrohir sighed, "I should go see if Elladan has killed any of the Narnians yet." Elladan wasn't quite fond of the Narnians like the other elves. He keeps thinking they are planning something behind their backs or one was going to kill him in his sleep.

Elrohir left the room, leaving Edmund with a sleeping Elrond.

"I wonder how you know when an elf is waking up," Edmund wondered out loud.

"I already am," a voice suddenly called out.

Edmund cried out in shock and fell off the bed. He looked up and saw a smiling elf-lord looking down at him. "How long have you been awake?"

Elrond thought for a moment, "Not _that_ long, I didn't hear anything if that is what you are getting at."

"Stupid elf," Edmund muttered under his breath forgetting about the advanced hearing all elves are blessed with. Elrond cleared his voice causing the boy to look up at him. An eyebrow was cocked in question. This must have been the 'disapproving look' Aragorn was talking about. It was much more intimidating on Elrond than on Aragorn. "I didn't say anything."

"Indeed…"

The two sat their sending mock glares at each other before grins broke through and the laughter started. It was this moment Edmund got his first glimpse of what the real Lord Elrond was like.

"What has happened while I was…sleeping?"

Edmund had noticed his hesitation but decided to put it aside. "Well, Lucy – my younger sister – and the Ranger, uh Halbarad I think his name was, went to Lothlorien. Glorfindel thinks a battle is coming soon. I honestly don't see why…Elrond?"

During his little speech, it seemed like the elf had all together stopped listening to him. Which Edmund found odd, consider it _was_ him who asked about what was going on. Yet now the elf was sitting wide-eyed in fear.

"Go get Gandalf,"

"What are you…?"

"Glorfindel, Gandalf, I don't care who just go get _somebody_!"

Edmund, shocked by this turn of advents, could only nod and run out of the room. They were easy to find. He found Gandalf speaking with Glorfindel and Aragorn near one of the campfires. By the time he reached them, he was out of breath.

"Edmund?" Aragorn asked, "What is wrong?"

Still panting, he answered, "Elrond told me…to get you…it"

"Speak!"

"Glorfindel!" Gandalf snapped. The elf drew back.

"He didn't tell me, just to get you. He sounded scared."

Gandalf nodded and went off to Elrond's room. Aragorn placed a hand on Edmund's shoulder. "Tell us what happened."

"Well, I was telling what has been happening – he asked about it – so I tell him that Lucy and Halbarad left for Lothlorien and then he started acting strange." Aragorn nodded and went to follow Gandalf, Glorfindel close behind him. The Ranger had a feeling this wasn't going to be good.

They could hear the wizard and elf from the end of the hallway. Edmund was right. Elrond's voice sounded frantic and scared. It only got like that when he knew somebody was in trouble.

"_Which way did they take?"_

"_The path through the mountains I presume."_

_Elrond shook his head, "If they go back that way they will be killed."_

It was then they reached the room. "What is going on?" Glorfindel asked.

"Moredhel's massing his troops at the Ford of Bruinen."

"Lucy, Halbarad, the elves! They'll all be killed!" Edmund exclaimed, his voice much higher than it should me. "If they aren't warned they won't know to be ready for a battle. They'll be slaughtered!"

"There is the chance," Gandalf said, leaning heavily on his staff, "that Lady Galadriel knows about their upcoming battle and has warned Haldir already to be on guard."

Elrond cut in, "There is always the slight chance she does not."

Glorfindel slowly understood what his lord was getting at, "No! You will not go after them!"

Elrond met his worried gaze with a glare, "Somebody has to warn them."

"And they will be warned, just not by you," Aragorn said "I'm sorry, you are just too weak."

What a slap in the face that was not to Elrond but to Edmund. He hadn't fully grasped what was happening until now. Now, preparing to go to war, he was beginning to understand. Some people are too weak to fight so they remain home and hope for the best. He knew – from stories – that Elrond wasn't always like this.

If a warrior is told he is too weak to fight, to help his people, defend his home, they start to feel restricted, like the walls are closing down on them. However, Elrond wasn't like this. He figured out long ago that there are many other ways to fight a war.

Besides, he was weak. He felt it. The wariness slipped away as the call for sleep grew louder.

"Rest now," Aragorn said gently seeing that Elrond grew tired. "I promise something _will_ be done about this." Glorfindel and Gandalf snuck out of the room, leaving the tired elf to himself. Aragorn remained in the room long enough to see Edmund climb up onto the foot of the bed and sit there, concerned for his friend. The man remembered various times when he'd do that as a child.

Edmund was nervous. He was nervous for the elves of Lothlorien, who were jumping into a war they know nothing about. He was Halbarad, who was kindly watching over his baby sister on their trip to the forest. Most importantly, he was nervous for Lucy, who he couldn't bare to lose.

He keeps telling himself that things will be okay. Everyone will make it out fine. But what does he know? Nothing…that's right, nothing, he knows nothing.

The boy is painfully aware of Elrond who was not yet asleep.

"They will be fine," the elf whispered.

All Edmund could do was nod and hope he was right.


	18. The Light and the Dark of It

**Mark of the Beast**

**Chapter Eighteen: The Light and the Dark of It**

"I have done something horrible…I have made a deadly mistake, Professor."

Cornelius looked up at king, who was standing near the window in his study…as he had for the past half hour, "What do you mean, sire?"

Caspian shook his head, "No…do not call me that…I don't deserve such a title…not anymore. I am not fit to be king."

With this, Cornelius felt his fear growing. "What are you talking about, sire? Of course you do."

"After all I've done?" Caspian turned from the window and looked at his tutor. "Have you…met an elf, Professor?"

Cornelius put down his quill and leaned back in his chair, "In fact, I have. It was a long time ago, when I was just a young lad. They're truly magnificent people, fair creatures. Too fair, some would said that they don't belong in a world as dark as this one." He sighed, "Anyway, the first elf I met was near the border of Narnia and their world, Middle-Earth. Oh, I forget his name now… but he was indeed the kindest creature I ever had the pleasure of meeting."

"They are really that great?"

"Of the minor sample I have, yes, indeed they are. Of course there are elves that have fallen from grace, as I have read in history. I traveled one year to an elf haven…Rivendell; I believe the name is, to study. At first I was nervous, that they would allow someone like me inside their gates but I was welcomed with open arms. And their lord…oh he was as kind as summer."

Caspian's stomach dropped at the word 'Rivendell' for that was the name of the realm that he ordered to be destroyed. And her people's lord was captured and tortured. Caspian was told he died, that he couldn't handle the pain of torture.

The Narnian King expected an elven army to attack his country then but it has been six months since and no army had come. This was worse he thought. The waiting, expecting, it was horrible. The Elves kept him waiting. He expected his downfall – planed it out even – yet some cruel force kept him waiting.

"Why the questions, Caspian? What is on your mind?"

Caspian looked out the window again. "The elves," he said sadly, "they should have attack by now. At least, I believe they should have. After all that was done to their lord," he turned back to his professor, "would you not revenge if you were in their place?"

"Aye, _I_ would. But that is not the question, Caspian. What would the Elves do - that is the question. For elves are not a vengeful people, at least the Lord of Rivendell is not. Perhaps his people wished for revenge but he persuaded them differently."

Caspian turned and walked over to the desk Cornelius was sitting at. He pulled out that chair and sat down. "Why would he do that? Especially, _he_, of all people, should want me dead!"

"It is who he is. He knows who is truly at fault and does not place the blame other ways. He does not scapegoat others. Those who rightfully deserve the blame are rightfully blamed in his mind. You were not the one who tortured him, correct?"

"Yes, yes, but it was I who ordered the attack in which he was captured."

"Aye, but it was not you who thought of the attack. The two points are different."

"But same in a way. I could have declined the offer. I could have stopped the attack before it happened! All of this could not have happened if I just said no!"

"It is quite obvious that nothing convince you otherwise considering you feel so strongly on this subject." Caspian nodded. The Professor sighed, "What do you plan on doing about it?"

Caspian sighed and rested his head on his hands. Suddenly, an idea struck. "How angry would they be if I suddenly showed up in their ruins?" Cornelius contemplated this idea with both horror and wonder. "Of course I will be going alone and unarmed. I wish not to pose a threat to them."

"Riding through a forest unarmed and with prepared elves is very dangerous. I suggest bringing at least an escort."

But the King shook his head, "That would only make them think I come to speak of war which I do not. I wish for peace and an unarmed victory. Yes, I shall ride to their ruins and speak to them – or the leader at least – and ask for peace."

* * *

><p>"Is it wrong to say I am starting to hate myself?"<p>

Edmund looked up at Elrond, "Why?" The elf gave him a questioning look, "Why do you hate yourself? You have done no wrong." The elf started to protest but Edmund stopped him. "Yes, I know you yelled at my sister and hit Glorfindel – I actually believed he deserved that though – but that wasn't you. It was Moredhel who figured out a way to control you."

'You're forgetting…"

"I don't want to think about that right now. Look, I know you're in pain but if you just hold on for a little while longer, we'll figure out a way to beat him. You and I, we'll defeat him together."

Both of boy and elf remained silent before Elrond spoke again, "You know, mostly everyone I know has entered my life and left it soon after. You're the one person who hasn't. That's why I wasn't too keen on befriending you at first. It was nothing you did – it was I."

"Well _that_ and we were locked up in a cell but then there was I…thinking I made the best mistake of my life."

The elf smirked "And that was?"

Edmund rolled his eyes, "Meeting you, of course." His mood became a lot more serious, "Don't give up yet, we're close. I'll make sure he doesn't get you again even if it means offering me to him, I won't let him touch you again."

"Your loyalty to me runs too deep – I'm not worth all that."

The boy laughed, "Trust me, you are. I never had a friend like you before and I don't want to lose it. Well…not yet, at least, we'll talk again when you start getting on my nerves."

Elrond laughed – a real and loud laugh, one of the first since their imprisonment. Now, a laugh to somebody else would just be some normal every-day thing. To Edmund it was different. To Edmund, it was a sigh of hope. The hope was that Moredhel hadn't destroyed the half-elf so much he forgot how to laugh.

Edmund was pulled out of his thoughts when he was sent off of the edge of the bed. He sat there dazed before looking up at the smirking half-elf, "Yes, I laughed. It is not that big of a deal."

"Maybe not to you, Peredhel, but to me; however, it is huge for I've been through two months of you _not_ laughing. It was actually quite boring." Edmund stood up, dragging a chair over to the bedside. "Everyone is so gloomy in this place. It actually is starting to get on my nerves. Glorfindel isn't always the stern-faced strict Captain is he? I feel for you if he is."

Another chuckle, "No he isn't. Sometimes I wish he was. When it is me against my children, he always chooses their side just because he likes getting on my nerves."

"Peter's like that as well!" Edmund exclaimed. "Ever since we returned from our first visit to Narnia, he's been taunting me about stupid things I did during our time as Kings and Queens."

Yes, the boy had explained the concept of worlds within worlds but Elrond was still confused on the subject. He still had trouble believing _Narnia_ was in a different world – a different reality – than _Middle-Earth_. The two being so similar, Edmund could see where it could be confusing.

Elrond laughed but his gaze strayed to the window. _More importantly_, Edmund thought,_ to Beruna._ Here he was, trying to get the elf's mind _off_ of the current battle taking place at Beruna but all either of them could do was think about it.

Aragorn was there. Glorfindel was there. Peter was there. Elladan and Elrond – Elrond's sons – were there. Mainly everyone was there. A few stayed – to keep watch over the ruins should they be attacked.

A scene of foreboding filled Elrond. It was a welcomed feeling considering he had not felt it in a while. Yet it was nerve-wracking at the same time. With a huge battle taking place at Beruna yet still his foreboding was not of the battle instead of something that should come to past.

_Should come to past…Galadriel, you've been watching over me this whole time, haven't you?_

"Elrond, what is it?"

Yes, Edmund knew Elrond had the gift of foresight – that he could see brief glimpses into the future – and it was used to protect his realm and people. It coming right now didn't bode with Edmund.

The elf shook his head and looked down. "It's not good." All the while the voice of Galadriel filled his mind;_ 'it is not safe where you are now. Flee the ruins and go north. A battle is coming and if you are there to witness it, all of Narnia shall perish.'_

_Why north? There is nothing there. Narnia has been abandoned since the Telmarine Conquest._

'_The Narnians have mastered the skill of disappearing. It is time they come out of the shadows.'_

"Cryptic answers once again…" Elrond muttered under his breath but he knew he was known better. "This place isn't safe…at least, not anymore. Not as Glorfindel first thought it was."

Edmund cocked his head in thought, "How so?"

The elf sighed, "I wish I knew. The ruins are being watched by a force we do not know. It is not safe."

Edmund stood up from his chair and strode over to the window, "So you suppose we leave."

"And go north…you know those lands, do you not?"

The boy turned around with a smirk on his face, "You, Elrond, are talking to the King of the Western Wood! Of course I know those lands! They are like looking at the back of my hand! I know every stick, every stone, every turn and bend…!" Elrond raised an eyebrow in amusement. Edmund cleared his voice, "Why are we leaving?"

It was a moment before Elrond responded, "I ask it not that you come with me."

"I am aware of that, elf," Edmund said in a stern, almost imitating Elrond voice. "I come because I want to, because it was what a friend do."

* * *

><p>"You bring danger to my realm, Halbarad." Lucy found herself shrinking back behind the Ranger, to get out of the gaze of the Lady. Unfortunately for Lucy, she seemed to see this even though her gaze stayed on the Ranger. She offered a small smile, "But not for reasons you believe…An army masses on my borders."<p>

"An army?" Halbarad asked. Lucy came out from his shadow. "We were not tracked nor followed."

Galadriel smiled, "The enemy has many spies. One of your own was proved a traitor less than a day ago."

Halbarad reeled in shock of such a notion. Lucy was also surprised. A Ranger betrayed them? Oh, she wished it wasn't so! They all seemed so nice; although…that Saeradan didn't seem so welcoming at first. It couldn't be him though for he was in Bree while the traitor was in Narnia.

The Lady continued, "He has warned the enemy of your presence here in Lothlorien and he followed. He will reach here in a day's time and he brings an army." For a while, nobody spoke. Her words made a clear reminder to Halbarad what they came here for. "I believe that is what you come here for…an army?"

"A shadow grows over the elven lands. Rivendell was the first to fall and Thranduil was thrown by the shadow. He grows stronger each day but has passed from our sight. The enemy sets his sights on Lothlorien next. We request not an army but a small company of elves, one just large enough to hold back this shadow."

"This is grave news indeed, some of which I did not know. Thranduil has fallen you say?"

Halbarad nodded, "Indeed, my Lady, and knows of our location in Narnia by a mistake of Lord Glorfindel. A party of elves from Mirkwood was supposed to arrive in Rivendell a week of elves before it was attacked but they never arrived. It is this, which leads me to believe that Moredhel had kidnapped them and twisted them into his slaves."

"Moredhel…I know that name and for long I believe he to have passed from this land yet he was returned, under what deed does he work?"

"A question I do not have the answer too I am afraid. We believe Elrond for he was the only prisoner that was taken and the only elf that was harmed. His army merely burned Rivendell to the ground without harming any of her people."

The conversation went on but Lucy took no heed of it for a fair voice entered her head.

_You are a gifted person, Lucy Pevensie._ The voice of Galadriel spoke inside of Lucy's mind. _Yet you doubt yourself and fear for others. But fear not for I am seen what you have. I tell you this…there is no way of tell what we see in dreams will come to pass. There are many realities to life, many of which can be altered and changed._

* * *

><p>"We must stop! Glorfindel's too hurt."<p>

"I'm fine," A bitter elf snapped. "Don't stop everyone just because I'm a little hurt."

"There are other people that need tending too as well. It would be better if we tend to them now that wait until we get back to the ruins."

Aragorn stopped and turned around. "Oh sure," he said sarcastically, "that is why you have a tattered cloth tied around your head! Peter's right. Glorfindel, sit down."

The battle at Buena had gone less than successfully. There was more Orcs than was expected – giving yet another reason for Langlas to doubt Ercassiel – and many had gotten injured. Her plan, however, was one of the higher points of the battle. It left the Orcs dazed and confused when they heard battle cries on all fronts. Yet their leader was smarted than most and rallied his troops quickly.

The twins earned similar injuries. Elrohir had a gash on his right arm and small cut on his cheek. Elladan got an arrow in the leg and was limping. Along with that, he had a slash across his shoulder. Peter earned a small slice across his stomach and a cut along his arm. Glorfindel had to worst of it however.

A rather large Orc managed to surprise the elf. He was going to behead the elf when somebody cried out. The creature missed but sliced the elf's skin just above his right eye.

The party stopped, putting down their weapons and sitting down on the grass or a rock, which was quickly turning red from blood. Glorfindel muttered to himself as he sat down on a conveniently placed rock. Peter walked over to Aragorn has he unwrapped the make-shift bandage tied around the elf's head.

Both men winced when they saw the gruesome wound. Aragorn smiled sheepishly at the blonde elf. "It isn't that bad?" He looked at Peter, "Go collect some bandages, quickly!" The boy began to run off. Aragorn yelled after him, "and some water too!"

The war party was a dismal scene. People were tending to each other's wounds. Others were sitting silently; looking like death was going to overtake them any second. He eventually found Elladan and Elrohir, who were sitting together and speaking quietly.

Elladan looked up when he sensed him coming. Quickly, he rummaged through a pack and brought out a small white roll of bandages. The elf threw it to Peter, who caught it with ease. Elrohir handed him a water-skin without a word while nursing his own wounds.

Quickly he returned to Aragorn's side. The Ranger was trying to console a stubborn elf while cleaning his wound. The boy handed the water to Aragorn and waited patiently with the bandages. Glorfindel didn't move much. He just sat there, as if he was in shock, which he probably was. His grey eyes stared up at them unblinking as Aragorn cleaned the wound. Peter stood awkwardly off to the side, shifting from foot to foot until the Ranger needed him.

"We lost," Glorfindel whispered. "It's over."

"No…" Aragorn said, not taking his eyes off his work. "It's not over, not yet. Have you forgotten that Elrond is fine? He's back in the ruins, where we are going, with Edmund. They're safe. We're going to keep fighting until we win."

"What's the point?" the elf snapped.

Aragorn looked back at Peter. The man was just as shocked he was. Who was this? Where was the never-faltering, never-give-in, Glorfindel they knew? Who was this elf that took his place? _Never_ once has this elf lost hope. _Never_ has he faltered from the path ahead of him. But now, after a silly orc skirmish, he loses hope? True, they once believe it to be a trick to lure them into a trap but Moredhel had not come!

Strange are the twists of fate…

Glorfindel was fixed up in only a couple of minutes. Once Aragorn had finished, the elf promptly collected his things and left. Peter stared at him as he walked away, questioning if that was truly the real Glorfindel. He was pulled out his trance when the Ranger placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry about him," he said.

Peter glanced back at the elf's direction, "Does he get like that often?"

Aragorn sighed, "No…I wouldn't say that." He smirked, "He has his day, just like all of us…but usually has a clear head during battles."

"I wonder what..." Peter's voice trailed off as a new thought entered his head. "What if…he was right? What if this is over?"

For a long time Aragorn didn't speak, nobody did. Then the Ranger turned to look at him, "What does your heart tell you?"

Peter shook his head, "No…it's not over. It won't end until Moredhel is dead."

The Ranger laughed and clasped the boy's shoulder. "We'll get there, friend. We will. That is a promise I know I can keep." He turned to leave but something caught their attention, something out further. It was distant for Aragorn could barely see it. It was billowing, like the white clouds in the sky, except there was a difference. This was dark, almost black.

_Smoke._

The very thought of it made him sick. There was a cloud of smoke raging above the trees where the ruins were hidden. Many people were still there. A horrible thought entered Peter's head. He looked over at Aragorn. The man was standing stock still with wide eyes. It was then Peter came to his conclusion.

The Orc camp was a diversion but not for the reason they thought. This was all a ploy so Moredhel could get close enough to the ruins without alerting anyone so he could burn them down, including the people inside – if they didn't get out in time.

All of a sudden, Aragorn took off, running full speed towards the ruins. Fearing the man was shocked out of his wits, Peter chased after him. He thought he could have overtaken him easily, seeing that he was a lot younger than the Ranger but Aragorn was _fast_ and of course, running through bushes and avoiding trees didn't make it any easier.

Finally, the man stopped, still a far from the ruins but in full view. Everything was set ablaze. The worst of it was the room that served as the infirmary – the room they held Elrond in when the elf was still very hurt.

_So,_ Peter thought, _this is it then. It's over. He won. Elrond's dead now. Nobody could have survived that… Oh Edmund, you were probably with him, weren't you?_

Soon Elrohir and Susan joined them. "We came as soon as we noticed you were gone," Susan said, her voice broken and confused. "…Elladan was helping Glorfindel…Peter…"

The boy turned around and in an instant they were in each other's arms. Both were crying for the supposed lose of their younger brother.

Elrohir took a stepped back in shock. This wasn't right. It was dream! No, this couldn't be happening… Not now.

"Ada…" Peter caught him before he could get very far. Elrohir broke down in tears and knelt on the ground. A large piece of a wall fell. It sent tremors through the earth when it touched the ground.

"I-I can't believe we lost."


	19. A Sense of Serenity

_**Author's Note:**__ Here starts one of my favorite parts of the story. Elrond and Edmund get to do some undercover work! Remember the scene in the *first* chapter of this story when I talked about the dead world. (If not I suggest you'd read it again.) It comes up again in this chapter._

* * *

><p><strong>Mark of the Beast<strong>

**Chapter 19: A Sense of Serenity**

"And you're sure you know where we are going?"

"I swear, _elf_, if you ask me that one more time, I will…" Edmund turned around to look at his smirking friend. The boy just rolled his eyes and continued on his way. "As a matter of fact, I _do_ know where we are going! You said this elf lady told you to go _north_ and that's where we are going!"

Elrond sighed, "Her name's Galadriel."

Edmund waved his hand dismissively, "You elves and your fancy names are all the same." The boy heard Elrond start to mutter in elvish. "Hey! What did I say about elvish? If I can't understand it, don't speak it! How do I know you're not insulting me?"

"Why would I do that? You know as well as I that I am in _no_ position to do that!"

"Alright, elf, whatever you say. We should reach Beaver's dam by morning. The Narnians should be there – I can't think of another place they'd go. Well…there _is_ Cair Paravel but that would be too far to walk and we'd have to go through Beruna and there's a supposed Orc attack going on."

_Orcs…that's what this is about, isn't it? It's a trap. Moredhel was going to attack the ruins while they were at Beruna._ Once again, Elrond found himself thanking the wisdom of Galadriel.

If you asked him what exactly happened later on, he would not be able to answer you for neither Elrond nor Edmund knew what happened. He knew something threw him to the ground – some sort of explosion. What could have caused such a thing; he did not know and still does not know to this day.

The last thing Lord Elrond of Rivendell remembers was the sight of a bull standing erect like a man before everything went dark, expect this darkness was different. There were no nightmares, no evil forces to assault him. There was peace.

"_What shall we d__o with them?"_

"_I say we kill them. We don't need any Telmarines figuring out where we are!"_

"_Nikabrik, no! You can't just kill everyone who looks like the enemy…besides; they don't even look like Telmarines! Wait for them to wake up then they will tell us their story."_

Elrond opened his eyes slowly. He was lying on the ground in a rather painful position. There was a fairly sharp rock digging into his side. Edmund was beside him yet lying on his back. He could hear gruff voices yet couldn't see a thing. Then he felt the pattering of small feet coming toward them. It came to Edmund's side but it was not what Elrond was expecting.

He would have probably jumped if he could. Keep in mind that our elf friend has been under bed arrest since Glorfindel got him out of the dungeon and he has never actually seen a Narnian. You could imagine his surprise when he saw a _mouse_ walking upright like a man!

The creature must have sensed his gaze on him for he looked up at Elrond and the elf couldn't look away fast enough.

"Ah," the mouse said, "good, you're awake!" Elrond just blinked, thinking he was stuck in some insane dream. The mouse was talking! "What…" The mouse leaned in, "never seen a Narnian before?"

"Reepicheep, who are you talking to?" Another – yet calmer – voice called out.

The mouse – Reepicheep – nodded at Elrond, "This one is awake."

"Oh good! Get him to sit up, if he can. He took a mighty fall, he did."

Reepicheep turned his attention back on the elf, "Well? Can you? Or, if you need it, someone could help."

Slowly – and albeit painfully – Elrond pushed himself up and leaned back on the tree behind him. He wondered what had happened for just about every part of his body ached. The simple action of sitting up hurt him so much that he didn't see the different assortment of creatures in front of him until the pain washed away.

"This was has to be a Telmarine!" a dwarf, Elrond guessed for he wasn't quite sure, said walking forward a few paces. "Look at him, shocked still at the very sight of a true Narnian!"

Another surprise, a badger came forward, walking and talking just like Reepicheep. "No, Nikabrik, I do not believe you are correct. He does not bare any resemblance to a Telmarine." The wind blew suddenly, blowing back Elrond hair and revealing his pointed ears. "Ah," the badger said, "I believe we have our answer… This here…is an elf."

"An elf!" Reepicheep exclaimed. "Long were my nights and my dreams of merely seeing one afar! Yet the skies have blessed the lucky Reepicheep for he has met an elf!" As scared as he was, the mouse's speech brought a small smile to Elrond's face.

Nikabrik huffed, "A poser, none less. Elves…never have I believed in such a tale – and I still do not!" He withdrew into the shadows of the trees.

"Do not take him too heart, fair elf, he knows not what he says. Do not worry, you are safe here. I am Trufflehunter. And you, if you can speak, of course?"

He imagined he could not yet he tried anyway. He got something out, something well enough for now – his name. "My name is Elrond."

The Narnians reacted more surprised than he expected. There was silence until Trufflehunter spoke, "You are known to us yet I believe for reasons one would not wish to be known for. The trees spoke of you and what you've been through yet we all believed you to be dead. After all that has happened, how is it that you're still alive?"

Elrond smiled, "I was lucky, I guess." He looked over at the unconscious boy by his side. "And I had somebody to help me pull through."

"Lucky, I'll say," a dwarf, but unlike Nikabrik, muttered, "more like blessed by Aslan Himself!" Many Narnians murmured in agreement. How was it they knew his story better than he?

Sensing that this 'Aslan' was an important figure among Narnians, Elrond tried not to let his confusion show. The badger, however, was smart and picked it up through his silence. "I keep forgetting elves are from a different world than us Narnians. Aslan, the Great Aslan, really, is the one who gave this very world life!"

Something clicked in the back Elrond's mind, something that has yet to make sense in Edmund's. Yet the elf wasn't sure what it was. The longer he thought about it, the longer the headache he had grew. And then, the figure beside him stirred. Edmund groaned and sat up.

The boy put a hand to his forehead, apparently had the same headache he had. Edmund groaned, "What happened?"

"Well, that's quite a long story. The gist of it is we found you two lying unconscious in the forest."

Edmund's head snapped up at the sound of unfamiliar voices. Unintentionally, he reached for his sword, ready to protect himself and Elrond from Moredhel when he saw a badger standing in front of him. "Narnians!" He turned to Elrond, "I told you I'd get us to the Narnians! You really need to put more faith in me."

The elf in question merely said, "What's with the sword?"

Edmund glanced down at his sword, which was still held tightly in his grip. "Oh…you see, I thought that you all," he said to the Narnians, "were Moredhel."

A centaur made himself know, rearing up on his hind legs and growling angrily, "You dare compare us to that monster!"

"Peace, Glenstorm!" Trufflehunter shouted, "He did not know better. He was hurt and disoriented! In that state of mind, anyone could have thought Aslan was Moredhel! Have you forgotten elves know not of us? You are scaring the elf."

The centaur seemed to accept the explanation but offered no apology. He stalked off before Edmund could say something. The boy looked at Elrond, who seemed to be trapped in a state of shock. Wide eyes looked at the spot the centaur once stood.

Edmund laughed, "You really never seen a Narnian before, have you?" Elrond just shook his head. "Don't worry; you'll get use to it. The shock wears off in a day or so. At least, it did for me…you and your elvish mind might take a little longer."

Elrond's head snapped around to looked at the boy, "What's that suppose to mean?"

"Oh nothing, really nothing, I just mean it must be tough for you elves to remember everything – being immortal and all. Any extra information might be a little difficult to retain!"

"You know, I'm tired of all the elf jokes you make."

Edmund rolled his eyes, "Get use to it, elf. There's a _lot_ more than that!" The boy turned to the badger, "You seem to know a lot of elves – more than Narnians would care to know. How is this?"

"Oh great," the other dwarf muttered. "Now you've gotten him off on _this_ story!

"An old friend I made a few years ago is from your world, elf. Things were different then, when the rule of Miraz wasn't so strong and Moredhel hadn't taken power and our freedom. He enslaved the Narnians, or at least the ones that are not here now. One of Glenstorm's sons was taken by the shadow. That is we he regards you two so fiercely." He turned his attention to Elrond, "And you, when we found you two in the forest, your appearance gave you off as Moredhel."

Reepicheep took up the story, "It was then many proposed we killed you two right there and then!"

"Kill us!" Edmund exclaimed. "Narnia sure has changed since I have last walked her grounds. Tell me, what has changed since the Golden Age?"

All of the Narnians looked at him in shock.

* * *

><p>"So what are we going to do?"<p>

Halbarad sat on a bench, head in his hands. Lucy sat next to him with her head on his shoulder. They had just finished talking with Lady Galadriel where they learned some more than troubling news. Halbarad was still trying to figure out how they led Moredhel here. It just wasn't possible! How could he know they were leaving the ruins in the first place?

He shook his head, "I don't know Lucy. I just don't know! I don't think there is anything we _can_ do. We're trapped in Lothlorien for now." The Ranger leaned back and sighed.

Lucy looked down at the ground with a silent prayer to Aslan to protect the elves. "There has to be _something_ we can do. Like…a diversion, we can cause a diversion! There has to be _something_ that Moredhel wants, right? If not, he wouldn't have bothered to come here in the first place. So, all we do is find out what he wants and use that as a diversion."

Halbarad leaned forward and looked at the girl, suddenly intrigued by the idea. "How do we find what he wants though?" Halbarad never got his answer for a new voice entered the conversation.

"Wise are the minds of children." Lucy and Halbarad looked up and saw Lady Galadriel standing in the doorway.

Lucy understood immediately what she meant but Halbarad didn't at first. Lucy sat there looking at the Ranger before he finally got it. "No!" He exclaimed, standing up from the bench. Lucy sent an annoyed look to Galadriel, who merely smiled. "No, it's too dangerous!"

"I won't be going _alone_ of course." Lucy said in an even tone. "I've already worked it out. Moredhel and his army are still at least a day or two behind us. If they took the entrance we meant to then they'll still be in Narnia. We'd met them at the Ford of Bruinen. I've talked to Haldir and he said he'll get me out of the there before Moredhel even knows I'm there."

"He already knows you're here! Didn't we just say it's you he wants?" Halbarad exclaimed.

"Yes, it is," Lucy protested. "That's why we use me as a distraction. To lead him away from Lothlorien – to save it! Halbarad, it's the only way!"

"No, there has to be another…"

Galadriel, who – along with Lucy – was starting to get fed up with the defiant Ranger, interrupted, "There is none. And it is not the choice I would have picked if there were another way. Lucy has willingly chosen to give up something many would choose not just to save a foreign realm." Lucy wasn't sure but she thought she picked up a sense of disbelief in the elf's voice. "Prepare now for tomorrow you ride to war."

* * *

><p><em>Elrond's eyes snapped open at the sounds of ringing metal. He lay there motionless until his senses came back to him. A battle was taking place! He tried to move but he found he could not. He couldn't even reach his sword. Whatever force held him to the ground released and the elf sprung to his feet, sword in hand.<em>

_He was alone. Alone in a dark forest…with a battle in progress but he couldn't see the battle. The darkness was too thick. He heard the cries of the dying and injured but he could not see them. It drove him mad._

_They grew louder every second, feeding his anger until he felt just ready to burst. He didn't know what to do. He could run. Yes he could, but to where? Where was there? The sounds of battle surrounded him. There was nowhere to go without blindly running straight into the strife and getting killed._

_With one last blood curling scream, everything stopped. The noise ceased and none remained, not even the natural sounds of the forest. The animals stopped their doings. The wind ceased to blow. There was nothing._

_He was alone…in a dying world._

_The moonlight broke through the darkness, shining down on him. It was a broken light, a false hope. This world was dead._

_A scream to the north sent him running. A shadowy figure lay broken in the bloodied grass. It called out to him, with an out stretched arm. It called with a voice he could not place yet he felt he should know it._

_The crying ended with a violent swipe of a sword by an unseen attacker._

_Then, a voice called out in the silence, "Why did you kill me?_

_He? Who had he killed? Nobody! He hadn't killed anybody this night! That voice…he knew that voice. Gil-Galad…dead? No! Gil-Galad had not been slain! Unless he was in that battle, then in a way he did kill him by not coming to his side._

_Was the figure in front of him Gil-Galad? Then he had watched his own king die and had done nothing!_

_Darkness was closing in on him. It was suffocating him. More than this sorrow was starting to take over, along with her friends, regret and loathing. He turned away from the darkness but it was everywhere. It filled him, right to his very soul._

_The light cut through the darkness. It was like a door in the sky. But this light was different. It burned him._

_The fires of Mordor, home of the Dark Lord. It called him._

'_Elrond…'_

"NO!" The elf woke in a cold sweat, terrified to the very core by the nightmare. He lay there on the cold ground. His breath came in ragged gasps. The stars shone bright against the dark blue night sky. He sat, leaning against the tree behind him, breathing heavy. Despite is rather loud awakening, everyone still remained asleep.

The darkness was unlike the one in the nightmare yet he could not rid the suffocating feeling. Silently, he stood and strolled away from the camp.

Although he watched his footing carefully, his elven grace failed him when he accidently stepped on the arm of a Minotaur. Elrond winced and drew back, afraid of what would happen. Within a few hours with them, he was starting to become use to seeing the strange creatures yet Minotaurs still frightened him.

The creature woke instantly. He sat up quickly with an ax in his hand but relaxed when he saw his attack was merely Elrond.

"Sorry…" the elf whispered nervously. The Minotaur lay back down without a response, as if he didn't hear the elf. Elrond continued on his way.

He wasn't sure where he was going, just a walk to clear his head. However, he grew curious when his path took a sharp left and was leading him away from the camp. He felt…no, he was in trance. His heart was light and his thoughts clouded. He was in the state of mind where anything could catch him off guard. And ironically, he was not the elf who just woke up from a nightmare.

The trees suddenly opened up to a clearing that ended in a cliff. Slowly, he walked over to the edge of the cliff – not the very edge, even a fool knows not to go that close to the edge of cliff. There was naught but cold, hard earth. And there, kneeling on the barren rock, Elrond felt a change. Whether it was in him or nature, he did not know but something _had_ changed.

_So_ much has changed already…could he take more? His home was ravaged and destroyed and he kidnapped and tortured. Yet good has come out all of this.

He scoffed, "What good has possibly come out of _this_?" He knew the answer before he asked the question.

Suddenly, somewhere behind him, a Lion's growl was heard. It frightened him to his feet. Slowly, he turned around to find the forest ablaze but with not fire. Instead the forest shined with a bright white light. It was blinding almost and Elrond wanted to look away but he could now. Gradually, someone came forth and He brought the light with him.

Soon, he was trapped in a room made of light…and it was just him and a Lion.

The Lion was…indescribable; large golden eyes that cut into his soul. He was magnificent and terrifying at the same time.

"Destiny is a fickle thing, Elrond, son of Eärendil," the Lion spoke and immediately caught Elrond's attention. "And it was not meant for you to end up this way. Things sometimes fall out of the grasp of fate."

While he spoke, the shape of the Lion twisted and transformed itself into a great powerful being. Or perhaps it was just his eyes playing tricks on him.

The words sunk in and Elrond looked upon the Lion in a new light. His breath caught in his throat. Never before had the elf lord felt so foolish. The person the Narnians spoke of, who Edmund spoke of many times, this was Him – Aslan.

With that, he finally realized it.

He fell quickly to his knees and with a bowed head he breathed, "Eru…"

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Note:<strong>__ Please review? _

"_Things sometimes fall out of the grasp of fate" – The hand of Melkor. You'll learn what that means later._


	20. The Beginning of the End

_**A/N:**__I'm sorry about my long unannounced break in updates. Other than Writer's Block, I don't really have a good excuse. But, here is where the good news comes in, I'm on summer break! Yay!_

_At last we have it! The long expected battle against Moredhel and the Elves…of Lothlorien and it only took me twenty chapters to get to it!_

* * *

><p><strong>Mark of the Beast<strong>

**Chapter Twenty: The Beginning of the End  
><strong>

Glorfindel hasn't been the same since they claimed Elrond and Edmund were dead. They searched the ruins and found five bodies; however, Elrond's and Edmund's were not found. This troubled everyone greatly. The other people still left in the ruins were just injured, albeit badly, but nothing that couldn't be treated. Most of the injured were young elves and women. The Rangers, some elves and even Narnians were helping the wounded.

The new turn of events made Susan rethink their death. There was no sign of their death – no bodies, things left behind, for example, the ring she has seen the elf wear. Some of that ring would have survived the fire. Something must have warned them; dryad or other Narnian like how she and Lucy sent a Dryad to Peter and Edmund when Aslan was killed. They must have made it out of the ruins before the attack came.

Something kept hope alive in her heart. Something told her that they weren't dead.

"_It's your fault this happened!"_ Susan groaned. Glorfindel had started up another argument with somebody. She wondered who his latest victim was. Leaving the pile of rumble she was picking through – her meager attempt to help the Rangers – Susan ran over to the area she heard the screaming.

Then her heart dropped. Erestor…hadn't he taken enough through all of this? Hadn't we all? She had to stop this before it started.

"Glorfindel," she said, coming up next to the victimized elf. "This isn't the way to handle things."

"It's his fault," the blonde elf said, none of the venom leaving his voice. Any other person would shrink into nothing as that callous gaze came over them but 'any other person' is not Susan Pevensie.

She sent him an equally threatening glance and crossed her arms over her chest. "Right now," she said, not looking away from the Elf, "I think anyone one of these people could mistake you as Moredhel with the way you're acting." Narnians and Rangers alike reacted to the threat.

The Elf in question was taken aback and couldn't find anything to come back with. With a glare, he retreated into another part of the ruins. Susan was honestly surprised with the response her mindless threat got. She didn't care though. What mattered now was where Erestor ran off to.

"I'm impressed, Susan," Aragorn said, as he walked up to her with another Ranger, "Not many people stand up to Glorfindel and live."

She offered a smile at the complement, a thing not usually given by the Ranger, but had other things one her mind. "Did you see which way Erestor went?"

"I saw him run off over there, near the lake," the other Ranger said. "I'd be careful though, Elves usually like to be alone when they're upset." Aragorn, knowing the statement was too true, laughed. He clamped Susan on the shoulder and walked off, the other following.

* * *

><p>"I've been to war before, Halbarad," Lucy said. "It's not like I don't know what I'm doing."<p>

Before the Ranger got the chance to speak, Haldir rode up beside them. "If how you act on the battlefield like the way I have seen you in Lothlorien, I believe we are in good hands."

Lucy turned in the saddle and looked at the elf, "What do you mean?"

"Not many are able to sway the mind of Galadriel." He then spoke to Halbarad, "Moredhel is elusive. The Lady doubted that he would bring war to the Golden Wood. He will be hard to track. He will most likely travel with a small force, staying within the trees instead of going straight across the Ford of Bruinen. We must stay alert." The Ranger nodded. The Elf then turned around and spoke to the other Elves in elvish. They then departed, going different ways into the trees.

"It's me he wants. I could be used as a distraction, to lure him out into the open."

But Haldir shook his head, "We do not want direct contact with Moredhel yet. He is too strong. We need to weaken him."

The wheels started turning in Halbarad's mind. "Haldir take Lucy. Get her away from here. I don't care where just away from here for now. I don't want her here when the battle starts. If we keep her away for long, Moredhel will be forced to start looking and saving his troops until he can find her, which would give us a chance to strike."

The battle didn't take long to get started. Lucy could almost feel the darkness creeping in on them. This was probably how Moredhel began his attacks, using magic to make his enemies doubt themselves. When people started to doubt themselves, they don't perform as well as they should.

She was riding with Haldir now. Elvish saddles were different that the ones she's known and Haldir was a lot taller than she so Lucy's feet couldn't reach the stirrups. The Elf also took control of the reins, another thing Lucy was glad about. Haldir's horse was skittish around the high cliff paths they used to get away from the battle.

From the point they were at now, Lucy could see everything; Elves shooting Narnians down from the trees, Narnians cutting the elvish foot-soldiers down. Everything was so painful to watch. Why did this happen? For what reason did Moredhel have to start this? Why did King Caspian have to agree to this? Then one name invaded her mind; _Glorfindel_.

Glorfindel was the only person standing in Moredhel's way. Glorfindel killed King Miraz, Caspian's uncle. Glorfindel freed Elrond from Moredhel. Lucy could lead Moredhel to Glorfindel. It's not her he wanted it was Glorfindel!

Lucy would have fallen out of saddle if it wasn't for Haldir's hold on her. Her mind still reeling, Lucy managed to speak, "Haldir, it's Glorfindel he wants."

Haldir nodded, "I figured as much. Why would a creature like him have need of an innocent girl like you?" He smiled down at her. "I'm afraid however, this changes things. We'll have to go straight to Narnia instead of go along with Halbarad's plan."

"Shouldn't tell him first? So he doesn't think we were killed when he don't so up?"

Haldir shook his head, "I am afraid there is no time for such things." Haldir's horse was very glad to get off of the cliffs. Lucy was too, with such of a skittish horse riding that high up is dangerous. The Elf looked behind them and smirked "There is a creature stalking us."

The Elf reached down and took out his sword. Gripping the sword in his left hand, he urged his horse on faster. The "creature" was a Narnian, a part of Moredhel's army. Just as Haldir's sword impaled him, the Narnian looked at Lucy and recognized her. She turned her head just as the tears began to fall.

This wasn't right. If anything she thought the Narnians and Elves could have formed a friendship instead they were in a feud where both sides have been deceived. She hated Moredhel for doing this to them.

They were supposed to arrive with entire force of Elves… How upset will Aragorn be if they show up with just the two of them.

Haldir suddenly cried out and lurched forward. Lucy found herself scrambling to grab the edge of the saddle before she fell off. The Elf gave another small cry and Lucy was beginning to figure out what was going on. Somebody was trying to bring down Haldir.

Just as a third arrow was released from the enemy's bow, Lucy managed to push Haldir form the horse. The Elf landed painfully on his side. The arrow fly past Lucy's arm, ripping the sleeve of the dress but that's all. Haldir was able to pull the second arrow out but was unable to reach the first.

Lucy turned the horse around. Her eyes grew wide. Granted, she hasn't actually seen Moredhel but she could probably guess what he looked like. Everyone was calling him an Elf but he looked more like a demon, somebody out of a nightmare. Even Haldir's horse didn't like him.

"Well, well, well," Moredhel leered, "What do we have here? An Elf and his pawn?"

Haldir shifted into a move comfortable position before glaring at the demon. Lucy noticed his bow was lying on the ground along with a few arrows that fell out of his quiver. With his hurt shoulder, Haldir would never be able to pull the drawstring back but…would she be able to? The bow itself was nearly as tall as her!

She quickly dismounted the tall horse and grabbed the bow. After struggling to pull the string back, Lucy managed to release an arrow. It, surprisingly, went the distance she wanted but her aim was off. The arrow grazed the demon's shoulder. The demon cried out in pain. Lucy could see a small rivulet of blood come spurting out. His eyes flared red angrily.

In the moment of distraction, Lucy felt herself being lifted up. She was put in saddle in front of Haldir again and the horse was off, flying down the path.

* * *

><p>Halbarad ducked under the fawn's sword. The faun snarled and leapt again, aiming for the Ranger's chest. Halbarad blocked it with his dagger and quickly disarmed the Narnian. Slitting the faun's throat, he moved to the next one.<p>

Some people said that Elves belonged in the trees. During this fight, Halbarad was beginning to agree with the statement. He couldn't remember the number of times he's saved an Elf's live since this fight started. He supposed it wasn't totally their fault. This was their first time fighting the Narnians.

He watched as a group of Narnian foot soldiers be shot down by Elves in the trees. The Narnians seemed to be playing the same tactics as they were. Sending a hundred foot soldiers out into the open while the others fought within the trees. The Narnians had more foot soldiers than them but the Elves were more skilled with a bow and arrow.

As soon as the Narnians broke their lines, they were met with a rain of sharp arrows.

He watched as Narnians cut down Elves and Elves did the same to the Narnians. The Ford of Bruinen was behind them and an endless forest in front. The terrain in the South Trollshaws was hilly and rocky and dangerous to move an army through. If they moved from this spot, the battle would be more difficult than it is now.

Moredhel wouldn't want a battle in the forest anyway. Narnians weren't fit to travel within trees like the light footed Elves, not when you have Minotaurs, Centaurs and Satyrs to worry about.

Pebbles at his feet began to jump. Halbarad's hand twisted around the hilt of his sword. With a shining great sword, a Centaur came flying down the dirt path. Narnians jumped out of the way before they were trampled. Halbarad braced himself. The Elves, hidden in the trees, shot at the raging Centaur.

The Ranger raised his sword halfway. The Centaur looked at him with death in his eyes. Halbarad met the gaze with a glare.

He raised his sword to meet the Centaur's great sword. The Ranger held tight but underestimated the strength of the beast. Halbarad was thrown back, landing painfully on his back. He lay there coughing up dirt. The Centaur walked up to him, great sword raised high to deliver a killing blow.

As the sword swung in an arc, Halbarad rolled out of the way. He came back up with his sword tightly in his hand. The Centaur reared, the sun shining of its breastplate. It was there Halbarad found his chance. Acting quickly, Halbarad thrust his sword into the centaur's side, where the armor failed to cover. The Narnian roared in anger and retreated.

Halbarad turned away, just as a horse came thundering out from the trees. He rushed forward, seeing it was Lucy and Haldir.

"Halbarad!" Lucy cried out, "Haldir is hurt!"

"It was just a few arrows – I'm fine!" The Elf protested.

Lucy turned in the saddle and glared at him. "The first arrow is still in your shoulder."

Halbarad went around and reached up, just barely reaching the arrow shaft. As delicately as he could, the Ranger pulled the arrow out from the Elf's shoulder. Haldir still gave a hurt gasp as it came out.

"I think they are retreating," Lucy noted as she saw the path clear out and Elves climbing down from the trees. Their faces were joyous.

The Ranger nodded, "I figured they battle wouldn't be long. Moredhel doesn't put up much of a fight."

"He's stronger, Halbarad. I – we – saw him. He looked determined and angry. We don't know what he's after but he's determined to get it," Lucy said, her eyes shining with a fire Halbarad has seen many times in other Rangers right before battle.

Another Elf came towards them. He looked angry…or sad? Lucy couldn't really tell and she was too tired to care. He and Haldir spoke for a while. Lucy guessed this was one of Haldir's brothers and he was concerned that he was hurt. The other Elf soon turned away and went back to what he was doing before.

"How many did we lose?" Halbarad asked, taking a guess at what their conversation was about.

Haldir smiled, "Only fifty."

Lucy's eyes grew wide and her smile widen. But Halbarad was doubtful, "_Only_ fifty?" The Elf nodded. "I didn't think our losses would be so…few."

"Moredhel doesn't know the first thing about strategy," Haldir said proudly. "The Elves are eager to leave and I believe Lucy here wants to see her friends again." The girl nodded, smile still on her face. They left Lothlorien eight hundred strong.

_Here we come Aragorn!_

* * *

><p>"I told you already! I couldn't sleep last night."<p>

"So you took a walk…" Elrond nodded. "And ended up on the side of the cliff?" Edmund heard some of the Narnians chuckling behind him.

Elrond just smiled and lay back on the grass. A Minotaur came over to them, "I don't blame the Elf for leaving. I couldn't sleep either…felt like somebody was watchin' me."

Elrond and Edmund shared a look. The Elf sat up again, "You felt like someone was watching you? I was woken by a nightmare…"

_Uh oh, he's thinking again…_ Edmund thought to himself. From his times with the Elf, he learned to dread when Elrond started thinking like this.

"What exactly did you feel last night?" The Elf asked the Minotaur.

The Narnian shifted from foot to foot obviously uncomfortable with remembering last night. "The dark almost felt suffocating. And the screams, I heard screams too! Like the screams of somebody being burnt alive."

Edmund was unwillingly brought back to the night Moredhel took Elrond out of the cell. The screams that Elf could produce were breathtakingly loud.

"Are you sure you weren't imagining things?" Trufflehunter asked, walking up to them. Apparently, he, like many other Narnians, was listening to their conversation. It's not like it was anything personal anyway…just the dealings of two insomniacs.

The Minotaur looked like he was offended, "I heard them! I did!"

"No, I think there is something going on here…" Elrond whispered. He looked at Edmund and said, "I think there is a reason I was brought to that cliff side last night."

"_Brought_, Elrond? I thought you just walked there?"

The Elf shook his head out of exasperation, "I did! I did! But I think it was no mistake I found it. It was like someone was waiting for me when I got there. I was led there."

Edmund sat down on a stump, "Led by what, though? I think you might be on to something Elfy. We just need to put logic to it. Now…things that could have led you to the cliff…"

"A bird!" A high-pitched voice chirped from above them. They glanced up to see a squirrel hanging on a branch above them.

Reepicheep rolled his eyes and looked up at the squirrel. "Unless it _talked_ to him, I don't think our friend here would be stupid enough to just follow a _bird_."

The suggestions kept pouring in; a wolf, another Narnian, Moredhel… Elrond knew the answer but nobody let him speak. One Narnian spoke after the other. Elrond felt a headache coming on. If one more person spoke, he didn't know how he would respond.

"Was it…" A faun began.

Elrond angrily cut him off, "Aslan."

Every Narnian just stood there, mouths slightly agape, all but Edmund, who had guess Aslan but his guess was drown out by all the others. He honestly expected it to be Aslan. Ever since they brought the Elf back from the cliff, he has been acting differently, like something wonderful happened to him. Well…Aslan _is_ wonderful.

Edmund stop up from his stump and declared, "If that's the case, we should go check it out."

Trufflehunter came out from the crowd, "Even so, with Elrond here, we don't know what sorts of creatures could be lurking in the shadows, waiting to get close to him. It would be best if we went armed. That way we'll be prepared if something attacks us."

Only a few of them left the camp and all that went were well armed. Edmund felt like he was going off to war. Elrond was the only one that went unarmed.

"It looks like a normal cliff," Nikabrik muttered when they reached the cliff. Elrond was standing near the edge as if he was in a trance. Nobody was worried; he wasn't close enough to fall off. Everyone else checked around the area for signs…_anything_ that would show them what the Elf saw last night.

"We haven't even looked around yet, Nikabrik!" Trufflehunter countered. "You can't just assume these things!" Nikabrik wandered off, muttering something about Elves being stupid.

A Satyr glanced back at the forest. He narrowed his eyes as he saw a flash of metal. At first he thought it was just his eyes playing tricks on him then he saw it again. He knew what it was the first time he saw it – a knife.

"Elf, look out!" Elrond felt himself being pushed out of the way just a shiny dagger came flying out of the trees. A Satyr caught it in its hand. He winced at the sticky substance on the blade.

"The blade was poisoned!"

"Looks like somebody is trying to kill you again Elrond," Edmund said, dragging the Elf to his feet.

Elrond laughed, "Who isn't trying to kill me?" The Satyr handed the Elf an extra sword that he carried. Just as the sword was in the Elf's hands, an ear piercing cry was unleashed in the forest. A mob of men dressed in poor armor and rusted swords surged out from the trees and towards them.

"You know how to fight, right?" Edmund whispered beside him. Elrond nodded, "Good. I don't need you dying out here."

Time slowed before the ring of metal filled their ears. After the first couple minutes of battle, Edmund stopped worrying about Elrond getting himself killed. Every enemy seemed to go straight for Elrond. The other Narnians seem to notice this as well and they formed some-what of a wall between the men and the Elf.

If Elrond noticed this, he gave no sign of it. He was watching the forest, waiting for the creature that gave the screech before the battle. There was no way it was a man that gave it, it was too inhuman. He could feel it watching him. He knew it would wait for the last moment to strike just when the battle was… There! He saw it, red beady eyes floating in the darkness.

The thing screeched again and then took flight. Black leathery wings beat against the sky. It was a rather bony creature, you could nearly count its ribs, see it's heart beating. The thing pounced and landed on the shoulders of a man. The sharp claws dug into the man's neck and swiped the man's head clean off its shoulders. Hanging in mid-air, wings beating against the wind, the creature scanned the rest of the Narnian before its eyes landed on Elrond.

Another inhuman screech was reached before it took off into the sky.

"Watch out!" A Narnian cried out as the creature did flew down at Elrond. The Elf dove to the side.

The Elf lay froze on the ground as the creature searched. "Of course…" The creature's eyes were glazed over, unseeing. "Nobody move! The creature's blind!" And nobody did, nobody dared to breathe with such a creature so close.

The creature was a small, winged beast with long skinny legs and arms. Its feet were armed with razor sharp claws. The creature began stamping the ground, out of anger they guessed.

Slowly, Elrond got into a crouch. The creature stopped, its eyes scanning the crowd. Elrond froze. The creature stamped again. Elrond moved his foot back, as if he was an animal ready to pounce. The creature screeched. Elrond pounced.

What they didn't know was the creature loosened the ground at the edge of cliff, where it was standing. The creature was light, nearly as light as a feather. Any extra weight put on the ground will cause it to fall into the deep ravine below.

Elrond grabbed the creature by the wings, trapping it. It thrashed about in the Elf's grasp. When it finally broke free from Elrond, the ground shifted. They could see cracks forming in the ground. The creature flew above their heads. Somebody manage to bring a knife across its stomach. The thing cried out and flew away, crashing through the tree tops.

The ground caved in. Before anyone could move, their Elf disappeared over the edge of the cliff.

"No, Elrond!" Edmund shouted, scrambling to the edge of the cliff. Elrond manage to grab onto a small ledge, it was too small to pull all of him up but at least he wasn't dead. "Hold on Elrond! I'm coming down to get you!"

"Are you mad?" The Elf shouted up at him. "You come down here, we're both dead. I'm not letting anything happen to you." Edmund just blinked. He was willing to die, just so he doesn't get hurt? "If I die…all this is over. My people could go home. Nobody else would have to die…"

"This isn't the way Aslan wanted you to die! He _didn't_ want you to die! That's why He made Elves immortal!"

"Take care of them, Edmund. Don't let anything happen to them."

Tears filled Edmund's eyes. "No Elrond…no," he whispered mournfully.

With one last smile, Elrond let go.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN:**__ No. This is not the end, I promise! Things look bad now but bear with me, please!_

_With that…please review? Please?_


	21. All is Lost, Hope Remains

**Mark of the Beast**

**Chapter Twenty One: All is Lost, Hope Remains**

Elrond wasn't one for adventure, or he wasn't anymore – perhaps when he was younger. It's funny how it can spring up on you when your least expecting it. The Elf lord would have never thought he'd be surviving a fall to his death a year ago. He would have laughed, actually, if anyone told him.

But, nevertheless, here he was, currently fighting to regain his wits from the fall. It was a miracle he survived at all. Perhaps it wasn't even that far down and he was tricked into believing he fell longer than he did.

He sat against the rocks, trying to steady his nerves. The bitter wind blew against him. Sharp rocks dug into his back. There was a rather painful cut on his forehead. Elrond hasn't taken any notice to this yet. He was sure he would, later, when he was ready to face the truth.

"Why am I not dead?" he whispered into the cold wind, starting up at the starless sky. Oh how did wished for a star. Nights of avoiding them came back to him. The feeling of neglect a child felt when a parent paid more attention to a younger sibling weighed him down.

_Questions later_, he thought, _not like there is anyone around to give you answers_. He managed to stand with difficulty. Pain immediately exploded in his head. _Great this is what you get for deciding to jump off a cliff._ He should be happy. He wasn't dead. He could be but he wasn't. That's enough make you go on…right?

In some odd why, Elrond wasn't sure if he resented the fact the fall hadn't killed him. But if he was alive then it was for a reason, right? Maybe his story wasn't done yet. There was something down here he needed to face.

He took a deep breath. Grabbing a hold of a rock, he attempted to pull himself up. He was only somewhat successful and was left kneeling. _Well this is a great start…_ With a sudden burst of strength, he managed to push himself up.

"Well," he said breathless. "I'm never doing this again." It was then, of course, he saw where he landed. A small trench, probably seven feet deep.

_Tell me, what was so important about that creature that made you fall into a barren waste land…of your own choice?_ He thought bitterly to himself as he painfully climbed out, falling on his back in exhaustion.

Laughter reached his ears. Laughter that made his stomach sink lower than when Celebrían left… _Oh. Great time to remind yourself about that. Great job, Eärendilion._

"Very impressive, old friend. I would have never thought you'd have enough will power to get out of that ditch."

Still too weak to stand and, Elrond responded, "What do you want?" Not that he would have stood if he could. He didn't have an ounce of respect for this creature

"Now now…didn't your parents teach you better? Oh…_sorry_." Moredhel mocked. "That's no way to treat a friend, at least sit up!"

Some form of magic pulled Elrond into a sitting position. He glared at the dark elf, "What do you want?"

Moredhel strolled forward. "Well, if you want to play that way… You're going to lose," he smirked. "And all those who fought for you will die. They've already lost hope, you know. News of your…demise reached them."

"I know," the words were forced out of a clenched jaw. "Your fire is the reason I'm trapped down here."

The dark elf looked surprised, "Trapped? Oh now, my friend, you were never trapped! You could have left at any time! _Any_ time. You just never saw the way out! Classic Elf, you are, always over analyzing the situation that you don't see the obvious!"

"Don't harm them," Elrond offered. "You have me. They're not of any use to you. You have what you want so let them go."

"Oh…you think…" Moredhel laughed. "You're not what I want at all. You were the key, yes, but what I want is much harder to obtain. But you know how to…"

"Then what is it?" He choked out, "What made you go through all of this trouble?"

Moredhel remained silent for a moment for a calm voice let out, "Tell me how to find the Sword. Tell me this and you and your people will be allowed to live. That is my deal."

"No."

Rage swept through him as magic choked the poor elf in his care. "Don't you play with black magic, Elrond. You don't know how it works."

The lord of Rivendell was released, landing painfully on his back. Moredhel disappeared in a black cloud.

* * *

><p>"What should we do now?" Lucy asked sounding hopeless.<p>

They remained silent for awhile as if they were unwilling to answer the girl's question. And some were. Nobody wanted to face the realization that a war was coming and would be on their doorstep soon. But why try to avoid the inevitable. They have already tasted the stench of war at the Trollshaws.

Moredhel might have managed to kill Elrond but Aragorn _refused_ to give him the satisfaction. Moredhel will be expecting them to be lined up and waiting for their final punishment. They'll be waiting but not for the end. They'll be ready for a battle. "We prepare for war." He declared before stalking off.

Halbarad and Peter followed the Ranger. Susan and Lucy went off to warn the others about the battle and help them prepare.

A spark of renewed hope lighted in Lucy's heart. If Elrond was really dead, then he'll be up there watching them, guiding them, and rooting for their victory. Lucy smiled up at the Elf lord she never truly got to meet and thanked him.

Thanked him for giving them the push they needed to win. "We won't let you down, Lord Elrond. I promise. We'll win this for you."

* * *

><p>Peter had trouble sleeping that night, which was usual for him during wartime, but this night it was increasingly harder. He found he could not even lay his head down without out getting the beginnings of a headache.<p>

He sat upright in his cot, rubbing at his forward when he saw a pair of boots walk past his tent. He took little notice of this at the time until they returned at this. Watching from the cot, he saw them stop outside his tent for a moment.

"You can enter, it's alright," Peter called out still slightly irritated from his head ache.

Aragorn entered a slight smile on his face. Peter quickly noticed the ashes that stuck to the fabric of his shirt. "Are you alright, my friend?" He shook his head. Aragorn grabbed a chair and sat down. "What is bothering you?"

Peter sighed, putting his head in his hands. "Narnia…everything, it…wasn't meant to be like this."

The Ranger slowly nodded. "The story of the Kings and Queens of Narnia," he said quietly. Peter slowly lifted his head up. "Quite famous within Middle-Earth I'd say, especially within Rivendell. A year ago, you four were a fairy tale to me."

"It wasn't always like this," he said. "The Telmarines ruined our country."

Aragorn laughed, "Yes I know the fury of the Telmarines. On errand of Elrond one year, I was put in prison for apparently insulting Caspian IX. He had to send the twins to settle the conflict. And he was the king who wanted to unite the lands…

"But as the story states, the corruption of Narnia began long before the Telmarines came. After your disappearance, many kings and queens sat on the throne of Narnia before the land became wild and monarchy was destroyed. Or…that's the Elves' understanding of it."

"The Elves?" Peter asked.

The man nodded, "The watched Narnia, silently from the shadows. They knew something was stirring in the shadows. They just weren't sure what it was. So Elrond, his land being so close to the Barricade, send scouts into Narnia. I can't say their findings helped much. But how else do you think Elrond knew who you four were, or how Glorfindel knew Lucy? The Elves never believed you were real, just a story to entertain children – until I found you at Cair."

Time was moving too quickly and he was forgetting about things that had happened earlier. "But that's beside the point," Aragorn continued. "Why don't you tell me what's been bothering you? Don't tell me you are alright and pass it off as nothing. I've been with the Rangers long enough to know when somebody has not been sleeping correctly."

He sighed, "I've been having this recurring nightmare." Just that seemed to peek Aragorn's interest. "Whenever I would try to sleep, I would see this barren land. It was dark so you couldn't see much but there was this light in the distance. I don't know what it is; I haven't stayed asleep long enough to find out. And there's something crying out for help, like they're hurt or trapped."

Aragorn remained silent for a moment. When he did finally speak, his voice was quiet, almost in a whisper, "Tell me, Peter…do you really believe Elrond and your brother are dead?"

"I…I would like not to. I know that there's a piece of me that still says they are still alive but another part doubts it. Elrond was injured and barely healing. Edmund wouldn't leave his side even if the Elf told him too. He would…find a way to get them both out." Peter's eyes grew wide. "You don't think…could they still be…?"

The man shook his head, "I'm not sure. But there is few here that believe they got out before the fire reached them. I can't leave to investigate this notion however."

"And could this dream be a cry for help from Elrond?" Edmund didn't know any magic but he didn't know the Elf well enough to say. "The land is just to the north. I've fought there before. Aragorn, I could go – find him. And if there are any other Narnians there, it would…"

Aragorn cut him off, "It would turn the tide of the war. Put the scale back on our side." The Ranger sighed. "I cannot say it wouldn't help and raise a few spirits around here. Alright…come with me." The man swept out of the tent. Peter jumped up and followed him, too excited for his own good.

They quickly came upon their make shift armory. Aragorn swiftly took a knife from his belt and handed it too him. "You'll need this. Narnian wasteland is a horrible place to get caught in." He then handed him an extra sword. Peter glanced down at his own. "For Elrond, he'll need it. I'll say you won't return until the battle alright has begun."

Peter nodded, taking the sword from the man. "Find the resources you need and leave quickly," Aragorn said.

The high king was about to respond when a loud clamor distracted them. "What is that?" Peter asked.

Aragorn shook his head. _We don't have time for this. I'll check it out later._ "Probably just some of the Rangers, now go! You'll need to leave soon." Peter nodded, swiftly turning around and heading for the forest

"_Calo anor na ven_," Aragon whispered.

Lucy and Susan woke near dawn the next morning and Aragorn was on edge. Knowing Susan, she would find out the reason her brother was missing and whose idea it was for him to leave rather quickly. That went for Lucy as well but she was less likely to become angry with him.

A small smile reached his face when he saw the girl involved intensely in conversation with Lindir. And he is surprised, for Lindir is usually as shy as a deer you meet in the woods yet he was responding as enthusiastically as the girl.

Their conversation was cut short when a shrill cry rang out. "Aragorn!" He winced. Lucy and Lindir turned around to look at him, the latter wearing a sympathetic smile on his face. Aragorn sighed and prepared for hell. There was nothing like a women's fury.

* * *

><p>Peter groaned as a vine caught his ankle for what possibly may be the hundredth time. He had Aragorn's knife in his hand ever since he entered this part of the forest. He never remembered it to be this wild. Oh how Narnia has changed in their absence…<p>

He stopped to catch his breath. He ran through much of the night, to put some distance between him and the camp. If anyone came looking for him, it would be hard to not turn back if they caught him. Aragorn said few people still believed that Elrond was still alive. That just made him wonder who did believe he still was, besides him and Aragorn.

Glancing up at the sky, he saw dawn peaking between the trees. His sisters would be waking up any second now and they would notice his absence. He had a big feeling they would go to Aragorn with questions. Knowing Susan, he would get a verbal beating as well. Lucy would be more understanding – hopefully.

A mournful shrieking caught Peter's attention. It sounded like…some kind of animal was injured. He looked back at the tree line. He really shouldn't stray from this quest. Who knows? _Elrond_ might be injured but…he couldn't just leave an injured animal lying out in middle of forest.

"Hold on," Peter whispered before running to find the animal.

This didn't take long. The animal was much closer than he thought it was and he nearly stepped on it. It wasn't the most…attracted thing. It had leathery wings and was the color of coal. It was the skinniest thing ever. You could count its ribs and almost see its heart beating.

The strangest thing happened next. The animal stopped its shrieking and looked up at Peter. Its dark eyes peered up at him. Then it let out on long cry. Its lips curled back, revealing its lips.

Peter stumbled back a couple of steps, hands covering his ears. The trees shook at the very sound and darkness seemed to be finding a place in the world again. He closed his eyes, wishing for the whole ordeal to be over.

After a moment, Peter opened his eyes again and found the very strange to be gone. It was just him in the middle of the forest with his hands covering his ears and feeling very, very foolish.

Shakily, he found his feet again picking up Aragorn's knife before he stood. He continued on the path he was following before, toward the end of the tree line. Something in him didn't seem right anymore, like whatever the creature was took a piece of him when he fled.

But of course not, that was foolish.

He was hit with sunlight once he broke free from the forest. Perhaps it was the dark that was making his mind play tricks on him. Maybe the animal was never there. He hadn't had a good night's sleep in awhile.

Peter walked to the edge and looked down. It was a very long way to the bottom but somewhere down there was Elrond, fighting for his own survival and waiting for help that he wasn't even sure was coming.

He kicked at the edge of the cliff, watching little pebbles drop to the ground below. He didn't see any other way down than climbing. He walked the edge looking for a good first foothold. Once he found one, he took a deep breath and pushed his legs over the side of the cliff.

He really hoped he wasn't wasting his time.

* * *

><p>"Ah…you called for help. Very good…you were never an admirable warrior. It's no wonder why your own children look up to Glorfindel more than they do of you. But…tell me, why the child?"<p>

"Why do you care?" Elrond said slowly, still rather exhausted from earlier this morning.

"Well," Moredhel taunted, "I really don't but humor me!"

Elrond swallowed his anger and looked up at the monster, "Because he's brave. And nothing you can _ever_ conjurer up can compete with a child's bravery." Didn't you say you weren't going to stop lying? He was the only one who would listen.

Moredhel seemed to accept this for a minute before he thought of something that would set the Elf off, "Or…because nobody else would listen to you. You're dead to them…literally. They _may_ have heard you calling out in the dark for help but passed it off as nothing since you're just not alive anymore."

"Don't take me for a fool," Elrond stood up, staring into the eyes pure evil. "Don't you dare take me for a fool. It took me a while, sure, but I've managed to work it out. You cast a shadow over all of us, making us believe your lies, turning my people against each other."

For a moment there, Moredhel looked scared. Elrond was smart, that much was bluntly obvious. In which Elrond lacks in strength of arms, he makes up for it in wisdom. But Moredhel wasn't about to show that weakness to a half-elf. "What truth?"

"Erestor's father…died years ago. I was there when it happened."

A look of horror crossed the dark elf's face. Elrond, however, remained calm.

"Get out of his body, demon."

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN:**__ Sorry this one was shorter than my usual. So I really don't have a good excuse for my long absence other than the fact I kinda lost interest in the story. But I'm back! I hate unfinished stories and this one is too special not to finish._

_It took everything that was in me to finish this chapter. I basically did it in one day. I had half it written before but some things I didn't like anymore so they had to be changed. I edited it and rewrote it in one day. And of course my good old friend Writer's Block stopped by in the middle of writing it. Alright anyway, this chapter was kind of take what you knew before and throw it away. Especially everything we knew about Moredhel because it seems that Moredhel really isn't Moredhel. _

_Hoped you liked my little "comeback" chapter. Please Review?_

Elvish Translation:

__Eärendilion __- Son of Eärendil

_Calo anor na ven_ – May the sun shine on your road


	22. Divide and Conquer

**A/N:** You're all going to hate me after this chapter.

**Mark of the Beast**

**Chapter Twenty Two: Divide and Conquer**

They really didn't know what hit them this time. On the Eve of the second day of Peter's departure, the ruins were attacked. Aragorn didn't know how long they were sitting there or why they didn't detect them earlier but the Telmarines managed to catch them unawares.

They came with torches and soon the air was filled with smoke, making it all that much harder to fight. And they were too strong. And more of this and they would have to forsake this place. Something Aragorn didn't want to go through.

He realized far too late that there were just too many Telmarines. They had no chance of winning this now.

Darkness was upon him quickly along with a blinding pain as a sickening _crack_ was heard.

* * *

><p>Lindir sat huddled against a crumbling wall. His mind was racing, trying to process what happened. One minute it was fine and then the horror raced in on horses. The place was quickly covered in fire and blood. The smoked burned and choked you, making it even harder to fight. He was lucky he got out when he could.<p>

But he hated it. He hated the hiding, the doing absolutely nothing.

But what could he do? He was no soldier. The thought of him in a battle was laughable. No, he's doing what he's best at. Hiding. _'Oh no, it's okay. He'll write a song about it later.'_ Lindir growled, getting to his feet.

That's when he heard the cry. All anger lost, he spun around seeing Lucy being advanced upon by an unfriendly looking Telmarine. Lindir look down, searching for something to fight with. His eyes found a corpse with a small throwing knife stuck in the back of the neck. Without thinking, he pulled the knife out of the body – just noticing that it was a Telmarine body – and ran forward.

His knife found a space in between the armor and met its mark. The man screamed and spun around. Lindir dropped to the ground, knife still in hand, just messing a clean swipe of the man's sword that would have taken his head clean off.

"Stupid Elf!" The man screamed. "I'll kill ya for that one!"

The man raised his sword in an arch and was about to bring it down on the Elf before Lindir rolled out of the way. He kicked the man's legs out from under him. The sword clattered out of his hands and landed next to Lindir, who then took it and made a nice home in the man's stomach.

Lindir grabbed the girl's hand and ran, ran as fast as he could away from the battle. Lucy struggled to keep up with him. Once they were far enough from the camp, they stopped and looked back. The flames still glowed bright and with them brought sadness.

Whoever did this wanted not just them to be destroyed but to be separated, divided. It's easier to defeat a divided army, even he knew that. It would be hard to make a comeback this time. They needed a miracle.

"What are we going to do?" Lucy moaned sadly.

Lindir shook his head. "I…I don't know but we can't stay here." Of course, there was always the chance of being caught if they sat here and waited. A Telmarine who saw Lindir could have followed them or they could be caught by reinforcements. That's why they had to keep moving.

So they headed south, in the faint hope of finding anyone else who escaped the ruins. That faint hope quickly turned sour.

Trouble waited and Trouble won.

* * *

><p>Awareness slowly came back to him and pain exploded throughout his body all at once. Aragorn groaned. An action that was muffled by a hand over his mouth. His eyes shot open as her hand franticly searched for a weapon.<p>

He struggled for a minute before an elvish phrase was whispered. He looked for his supposed 'attacker' and found Legolas sitting huddled behind a tree and a convenient bush. Aragorn moved the Elf's hand and sat up, trying to see what they were hiding from.

His answer was three Telmarines patrolling. It was then he noticed the state both of them were in. Both of them were hurt rather badly but still had their weapons, which was an upside he guessed.

Aragorn turned his head and saw the dulled glow of the burning ruins. Legolas had made it, even burdened with his body.

"We cannot stay here," he whispered. Legolas nodded. They waited for a moment where the Telmarines were far enough not hear and went south. Both of them knew going back wasn't an option. He could only pray everyone else was safe.

It was awhile before they ran into anyone else. Aragorn held up a hand, silently signaling for Legolas to stop, when he heard somebody walking towards them. He placed a hand on the hilt of his sword. Legolas reached back for his bow.

Hidden behind a tree, they waited for the intruder to come closer. Aragorn took out his sword and jumped out from his hidden spot. The intruder, a boy, fell on his back in fright. He was dressed like a Telmarine, as Aragorn thought.

"No! Please, I am unarmed," the boy exclaimed. It was true, he wore no sword. He didn't have time to grab one before he left the castle.

"Who are you?" Aragorn spat. The boy hesitated but ultimately gave up his name – Caspian. Aragorn drew back in surprise but still kept his sword in place. "Why?"

Caspian was confused by the man's question. Why _what_? It was then he noticed both were hurt. And he came to the startling realization that the Telmarines must have attacked their camp. "I was betrayed. My men turned on me. I did not order that attack!"

"Alright," Aragorn lowered the sword. "I'll believe you for now. And I refuse to kill and unarmed man in cold blood. But give me a reason to doubt you and you can count on your life ending in that very moment.

Caspian nodded.

* * *

><p>Lucy willed him to move but Lindir lay motionless in the dirt. His stomach was bleeding openly from where the Telmarines cut him open. He did not cry out though, for they already knocked him unconscious when the wound was formed.<p>

He defended her when the Telmarines attacked them. Both knew it was hopeless from the start, four armed soldiers against two barely refugees.

Were they refugees now? They had no home, no place in the world anymore. They were lost in the middle of a dangerous and unfriendly wood. All they had were each other. And the Telmarines took that away too. Tears formed in Lucy's eyes at the thought of being alone out here.

"Bind the girl," the leader ordered. "I want to have a little fun with the Elf." Lindir took on a defensive stance. Nobody else moved. "I said bind the – what the…" the Telmarine spun around and saw his quad dead and bleeding on the ground.

From the tree above them, Elrohir dropped silently to the ground, landing behind the Telmarine leader. "Oh, did you mean me?"

The Telmarine turned around quickly. He was shocked to have an arrow pointed at his heart. "I don't know whenever to kill you or keep you alive," the man seemed pleased with the last part, "to face the humiliation of knowing you were bested by two Elves." His face immediately fell.

"I say kill him," another voice cried out. Lucy looked up and saw Elladan standing next to her. "I say we kill him and send his body to the Telmar Castle. Then, he'll be known as the man who was bested and also a coward who begged like a dog." He walked forward and forced the man to his knees.

A playful glint appeared in Elrohir's eyes. Elladan couldn't remember the last time he saw his brother like this. "I like that plan." He closed his eyes as Elrohir loosed the arrowed.

He was suddenly remembered when their mother left for the Undying Lands and how mad they went. This was no different. Elrond was dead and they were mad but instead of Orc they hunt man. It wasn't what Elrond would have wanted for them.

It was disgusting. They were taking pleasure of ending lives again. Every kill pleased them and they wouldn't stop until Elrond's debt was paid but both knew it would never be. So they would continue killing until someone had the good sense to snap them out of it.

With a heavy heart, Elladan knelt down and cut Lucy free. "Those fools didn't hurt you did they?"

The girl shook her head, "Not me."

Elrohir was already there tying the wound up. The two walked over to him. His face was grim. Lucy could tell he was beginning to doubt that he'll make it. "It's my fault," she said tearfully. "He was trying to defend me."

Elladan knelt down and grasped her shoulders, "No, Lucy – no. Don't think that. Lindir's going to be fine, alright? The wound isn't even that deep." Elrohir nodded in confirmation. "He'll live, trust me. I know Lindir; he's stubborn – even if he doesn't seem it." His words didn't stop her tears from falling. She wrapped her arms around the Elf's neck and cried.

"Lindir's lucky to have a friend like you, Lucy," he said softly. "He'll need someone that cares for him like you do when he wakes up. He'll be in pain and we have nothing to dull it. _Somebody_ forgot it."

"It was either the medicine or our lives," Elrohir retorted. He suddenly became serious "We have to keep moving. Who knows how many more Telmarines are out here."

* * *

><p>The only thing he knew was the blinding pain that racked his body. Being knocked off Asfaloth and then dragged into the forest by the stirrup was enough. He really didn't need the added pain of his wounds.<p>

He freed himself finally and lay in pain on the forest floor, unable to move. He could still smell the smoke the flames brought. It was sickening and he didn't think he could trust his stomach. Glorfindel closed his eyes, letting the salty tears free.

The downfall of the Elves they'll call this. The Telmarines will drink to their victory, proud that they crushed every single Elf and Narnian in the ruins. They'll sing of his _failure_.

"Elrond, I'm sorry," he whispered to no one.

It wasn't long before he felt something brush against his cheek. He thought it just an animal but then realized it was too soft and he hasn't felt any animal that soft before. Glorfindel opened his eyes and painfully raised his head. He saw white flower petals resting on his chest.

He pushed himself up, despite the pain. He was frightened by what he saw. It was a woman – he thought – made of flower petals. She did not speak merely just stood there but it was enough to enchant him.

He moved to stand and the woman fled. Glorfindel felt like his heart broke. "No!" He cried. Blood dripped from wounds that reopened but it went unnoticed as Glorfindel followed the woman.

But he found not what he sought when he was led to a clearing. Standing there was a great lion, terrible and beautiful and scared Glorfindel down to his very core. He felt like an elfling, about to be scolded by his parents.

The brave and powerful Glorfindel that fought in the First Age under the glittering banners of Gondolin was reduced to a mere child shaking in his boots when the Lions gaze swept over him. For reasons he still cannot explain, he found himself kneeling in front of the Lion.

"Do not forsake hope," He said. "For it can be found in the smallest of places."

* * *

><p>Fire crackled around her. Screams of battle filled her eyes. Her arm protested with every arrow she loosed.<p>

Susan knew she shouldn't have let her arm get rusty. She should have practiced before this happened. But then again, how did any of them know this would happen? It was a surprise attack, they got no warning the Telmarines would attack.

Of course that rotten Caspian would attack them at their weakest. Telmarines were cruel and merciless and always have been. She knew they wouldn't be spared of their wrath.

Her heart went out to the Elves. They definitely did not deserve all of this. They were good folk, fair, kind. Strangers in a strange land. Haven't they already endured enough? The Telmarines already burned down their home.

The scale quickly tipped in favor of the Telmarines. Elves and men alike were dropping around her. She actually heard someone say people were fleeing. She just hopped Lucy was alright. Something in the bottom of her stomach told her she would barely escape this with her life.

Sad to say she was actually right. The Telmarines won their battle quickly and celebrated their victory. Survivors were round out and bound with rough cords of rope. She took in the state of the survivors; some with hair matted down with blood or had the metallic substance covering the side of their face. Some were just mere children or women.

An Elf was thrown down beside her. She looked down with joy to see it was Erestor. His injuries seemed minor, thankfully. There was something wrong with his arm, she saw.

"Thank the heavens they didn't hurt you," he said when he saw she was still alive.

It wasn't long until the Telmarines got bored and decided to look to them for fun. If you could call it that. She called it mindless cruelty. To her horror, their victim was none other by Erestor. However, she was silenced with a sharp look when she started to protest.

The Elf matched the cruel look on the Telmarine leader with a glare and curt smile. It was one of the most frightening looks she's ever seen. Another hit the Elf on the back with a wooden rod. Instead of moaning, she heard laughing.

The laughter ceased when the Telmarine went to go investigate. Erestor kicked the legs out from under the man. He stumbled to his feet as the Telmarine fell with no help from his binds. The man however grabbed his ankle and pulled, sending the Elf flying.

Erestor's face smashed into the ground and he remained motionless. The Telmarine grabbed the rod and started beating Erestor.

"Stop it! You're killing him!" Susan screamed as she was forced to watch miserable as the beat senseless. The Elf was already unconscious. It must have been a sick game of the Telmarines. Conquer them then beat their leader until he's dead.

"_Don't let them know who you are,"_ was the only thing he told her before they took him. She felt utterly alone know. Peter was gone. Edmund was dead. There has been no sign of Lucy. Perhaps she made it out before they killed her. Perhaps she was safe. But now the only other person who cared for her wellbeing was being beaten to death.

Her protests just seemed to push them farther. Of course, these were Telmarines with a vendetta against the Elves. They were probably ordered to make sure every single Elf was destroyed.

It was another minute before they finally left him alone. They went off to another part of the ruins to search for survivors. Nobody moved until the sounds of horses riding away from their destroyed camp ceased.

She was scared. She had gotten to know the Elf over the course of her time here. Against everyone's advice to stay away, she learned the Elf wasn't all that bad. Perhaps just lonely, she'd be too if nobody talked to her out of fear.

It was then Susan felt something hit her shoe. She looked down and saw a small knife sitting there. She knelt down, struggling to pick it up and position it right so she could cut herself free. She handed it off to an Elf – unknowingly the one who gave it to her in the first place – and asked if he'd cut the rest free.

The Elf, Gildor, joined her at Erestor's side once his work was finished.

Susan felt completely and utterly lost. Why could she be Lucy? Lucy was the healer. She'd know what to do in a situation like this.

The Elves had gone off in search of people that managed to escape the Telmarines. One returned though, with a terrified look on his face. Susan had feared news of another massacre but his news was far worse. She stood and straightened herself out, trying to put on a brave face.

"What is wrong?" She asked.

The Elf shook his head. "I cannot begin to explain it. Please, it would be better if you saw this yourself."

Susan looked back at Erestor and bit her bottom lip in conflict. "Go," Gildor sad. "I have this situation handled."

She nodded and followed the Elf. He took her the entrance of the ruins. There, burnt into the ground, were the words; _the true Queen will reign_. She knelt down and touched the burnt grass, against the Elf's protests. She was surprised to find it was ice cold instead of hot, like she expected.

* * *

><p>"How much longer?"<p>

"I don't know brother because I don't know where we are going."

Lucy sighed. This has been going on for a while now. It was true though, they didn't know where they were going. She understood that. She was tired of the constant bickering between the twins. Luckily, she didn't have to endure much more of it.

It was Lindir who save her. Elrohir was carrying the Elf since they couldn't stay and wait for him to wake up. He knelt down and gently placed the Elf on the ground when he began to stir in his arms. Lucy and Elladan stood a respectable distance.

Lindir's eyes fluttered open. "Hey sunshine," Elladan said, kneeling down in front of the hurt Elf.

"Wh-What happened?"

"You got your first battle scar!" Elladan exclaimed who was promptly silenced with a glare from his brother.

"You're fine now," Elrohir assured. "Had a little run in with a Telmarine," A look of horror crossed Lindir's face. "Like I said, you're fine now."

Their happy reunion was broken when Elladan went rigid. He stood slowly and turned around. They heard it then too. It sounded like someone walking towards them. "There are three of them," Elladan informed them quietly. Elrohir slid his sword out of his scabbard.

"Lucy," Elrohir whispered. "Stay with Lindir." The girl nodded, finding no reason to argue with the Elf. "I'm going to go look ahead."

Elladan nodded, "Be careful."

He screamed when they saw Elrohir fall to ground. The Telmarine had been hiding, waiting until he was close enough before striking. Before he could move, an arrow flew past his ear and found home in the man's chest. He turned around and saw Aragorn running towards them with Legolas in tow.

"Go!" The man screamed, pointing in the direction he came. "There's more coming!"

"I won't leave him!" Elladan yelled back, tears forming in the corner of his eyes.

"Then you'll die too!" Aragorn tried to reason. Legolas had already manage to get Lindir and Lucy out of the area. "Do you think that's what Elrond would have wanted, both his sons dead?"

Elladan's anger broke. "Elrond is dead."

The man shook his head, "No he's not. Damn it Elladan, believe me for once. He's not dead!" They heard the sounds of clanking metal. Soldiers were headed their way. "They're coming. We have to move _now_."

Elladan looked back at where his brother fell and whispered, "I'm sorry brother," before following.

* * *

><p>Thinking on his feet, Legolas grabbed a tree branch and hoisted himself up. His presence will go unnoticed later but for now they were focusing on getting out of here before they were all killed by the Telmarines. He waited patiently until they were out of sight before jumping to the ground.<p>

He crouched behind a bush and looked if the coast was clear before dashing to Elrohir. He quickly took off his cloak and tied it around the Elf's torso.

Elrohir looked up at the blonde Elf, "Legolas, go, they're coming. No use if you get killed too."

"That's just it," he said. "You're not dead yet." He could hear the soldiers getting closer. He carefully pulled Elrohir to his feet, wrapping an arm around him for support. Just as he went to follow the path Aragorn took, he heard soldiers in that direction.

"They cut us off," Elrohir whispered. They weren't just cut off, they were surrounded. "Legolas, go on without me. I'll only kill you faster if you help me."

Legolas laughed, "Not if the Valar came down and commanded me to do so." He found a path that wasn't swarmed with Telmarines and took it.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** _I am accepting death threats in the form of reviews. _

_This chapter was hell to write. I've never dealt with so many points of views before. It was horrible. And it was a pain in the butt to edit but I'm really happy with how it turned out. Here's me hoping it turned out good?_


	23. Important Author's Note

Hey guys! Long time no see.

Let me be honest with you all, I'm not proud of this story. I've fought myself over the decision of what to do with this and came up with this…

Since so many people seem to like it, I refuse to just delete it. I've decided I'm going to rewrite the entire thing. The idea will mainly stay the same with a few changes here and there. The big thing that is going to change is the writing. I've grown as a writer since the last time I've updated. Hopefully I'll produce something that both you and I can be proud of and enjoy.

I'm not going to delete this story until I have a solid foothold in the rewrite. It may stay under the same name or it might be changed. Who knows!

Anyways, thanks for sticking with me.


End file.
